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AN 


HISTORICAL  AND  CRITICAL  VIEW 


SPECULATIVE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  EUROPE 


IN  THE 

NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


BY 


J.  D.  MORELL,  A.M. 

0- 


COMPLETE  IN  ONE  VOLUME. 


FROM  THE  LAST  LONDON  EDITION. 

9 

NEW  YORK: 

J ROBERT  CARTER  & BROTHERS, 
No.  2 8 5 BROADWAY. 


1849. 


i “ 


;v^  C-V . 

< •• 


« 


•’  • '-i.,  • '.  *'  ; 


/o^ 

L 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FffiST  EDITION. 


The  author,  in  sending  forth  the  present  work  to  the  public,  wishes  at 
the  outset  to  bespeak  the  candor  and  indulgence  of  the  reader.  The  sub- 
ject, he  is  well  aware,  is  at  present  of  a very  unpopular  character  ; be- 
sides which,  the  abstruseness  of  many  of  the  details  renders  it  vain  to 
hope  that  he  has  succeeded  in  discussing  them  without  falling  into  some 
errors  and  many  imperfections.  The  work  itself  is  not  the  production 
of  an  experienced  writer  ; it  contains  the  first  thoughts  which  the  author 
has  yet  ventured  to  intrude  upon  public  notice,  and  was  composed  in  the 
quietude  of  a country  life,  without  the  aid  of  any  mind  to  suggest  im- 
provements. Under  these  circumstances  he  feels  that,  while  he  is  bound 
to  speak  with  much  modesty  of  his  own  labors,  he  can  at  the  same  time 
lay  some  reasonable  claim  to  kind  consideration  from  the  critical  reader. 

With  regard  to  originality,  the  author  makes  very  little  pretension  to 
anything  of  the  kind.  He  has  used  very  freely  the  opinions  and  the 
arguments  of  other  people ; seldom  rejecting  an  apposite  idea  because  it 
was  to  be  found  amongst  the  productions  of  some  other  mind.  Should 
he  only  succeed  in  bringing  great  truths  and  'principles  before  the  atten- 
tion of  his  felloW-men,  he  will  not  envy  any  one  the  first  origination  of 
them.  If  it  may  be  now  allowed  him  to  lay  down  the  stiffness  of  the 
third  person,  and  assume  the  confidential  ease  of  the  first,  he  will  detail 
as  briefly  as  possible  the  train  of  circumstances  which  has  led  to  the 
present  attempt,,and  the  purpose  he  has  had  in  view  in  making  it. 

Whilst  going  through  a systematic  course  of  general  study  in  London, 
I was  induced,  from  a somewhat  undefined  idea  of  the  importance  of  the 
subject,  to  take  up  Locke’s  “ Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding.” 
The  perusal  of  that  immortal  work  seemed  to  open  a region  of  surpass- 
ing grandeur ; but  at  the  same  time  gave  few  results,  upon  which  it  was 
possible  to  rest  with  calmness  and  satisfaction.  I next  betook  myself  to 
the  Lectures  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  hoping  to  find  there  the  satisfaction 
I required.  In  this  hope  I was  not /or  the  time  disappointed.  The  style 
was  so  captivating,  the  views  so  comprehensive,  the  arguments  so  acute, 
the  whole  thing  so  complete,  that  I was  almost  insensibly  borne  along 
upon  the  stream  of  his  reasoning  and  his  eloquence.  Naturally  enough 
I became  a zealous  disciple ; I accepted  his  mental  analysis  as  almost 


IV 


PREFACE. 


perfect ; I defended  his  doctrine  of  causation ; with  him  I stood  in 
astonishment  at  the  alleged  obtuseness  of  Reid  j and,  with  the  exception 
of  his  ethical  system,  was  ready  to  consider  “ ipse  dixit”  as  a valid  argu- 
ment for  the  truth  of  any  metaphysical  dogma.  Induced  by  the  lively 
admiration  I had  conceived  for  the  Scottish  metaphysics,  I proceeded  to 
the  University  of  Glasgow,  and  studied  philosophy  in  the  class-rooms 
which  had  been  honored  by  the  presence  and  enlightened  by  the  genius 
of  Reid  and  Smith.  Here  the  veneration  for  Brown  began  to  subside  ; I 
felt  that  there  was  a depth  in  the  philosophy  of  Reid  which  I had  not 
fully  appreciated,  and  that  the  sensational  tendency  of  the  former,  though 
it  added  popularity  to  his  thoughts,  was  an  ill  exchange  from  the  incip- 
ient spiritualism  of  the  latter.  Hoping  to  probe  the  questions  relating 
to  the  foundation  of  human  knowledge  more  to  their  centre,  I attempted 
to  read  Kant’s  “ Critick  of  Pure  Reason,”  and  some  few  other  Continen- 
tal works  ; but  they  for  the  most  part  opened  a region  so  entirely  new, 
that  I felt  quite  unable  to  compare  their  results  as  a whole  with  those  of 
the  Scottish  metaphysicians.  Desirous,  however,  of  pursuing  the  sub- 
ject still  further,  I repaired  to  Germany  ; I heard  Brandis  and  Fichte 
expound  German  philosophy  in  their  lecture  rooms,  and  spent  some 
months  in  reading  the  standard  works  of  the  great  masters.  The  differ- 
ent systems,  which  were  here  contending  for  the  preference,  gradually 
became  intelligible  ; but,  alas  ! they  stood  alone — in  complete  isolation  ; 
to  compare  their  method,  their  procedure,  their  aim,  their  results  satis- 
factorily with  those  of  our  English  and  Scottish  philosophy,  appeared,  as 
yet,  almost  impossible.  To  gain  light,  therefore,  upon  these  points,  I 
turned  my  attention  to  France ; the  name  of  eclecticism  seemed  too  in- 
viting to  be  turned  away,  as  it  often  is,  on  the  charge  of  syncretism  or 
want  of  profundity ; and  my  hopes  were  not  altogether  deceptive.  I 
found,  or  thought  that  I found,  in  the  writings  of  Cousin,  and  others  of 
the  modern  eclectics,  the  germs  of  certain  great  principles,  upon  which 
a comparison  of  all  the  philosophical  systems  of  the  present  age  could  be 
advantageously  instituted,  and  saw,  that  such  a comparison  would  be  of 
very  important  service  to  one,  who  should  be  anxious  to  travel,  as  I had 
done,  over  the  broad  field  of  European  metaphysics.  How  eagerly 
should  I have  welcomed  such  a directory  myself,  while  I was  toiling  to 
get  some  clear  light  upon  the  conflicting  systems  of  Germany  ; how 
highly  should  I have  valued  a simple  and  definite  statement  of  the  foun- 
dation principle  of  the  different  schools — how  intensely  rejoiced  in  a 
work  which  would  show  the  relations  of  the  one  to  the  other ! It  was 
with  a view,  therefore,  of  supplying  the  want  which  I had  myself  felt, 
that  I began  the  sketch  which  has  now  swelled  into  these  two  volumes  ; 
and  it  is  in  the  hope  that  it  may  afford  to  others  what  I myself  vainly 
sought  for,  that  it  is  npw  ushered  with  all  its  imperfections  before  the 
public. 


PREFACE. 


V 


The  plan  of  the  work,  as  a whole,  may  be  stated  in  very  few  words. 
First,  I have  attempted  to  explain  and  illustrate  the  general  idea  of  phi- 
losophy, and  to  deduce  the  fundamental  notions  from  which  it  springs. 
Having  grasped  the  idea  of  philosophy  generally,  I attempt  next  to  point 
out  the  different  views  which  have  been  entertained  of  its  details ; in 
other  words,  to  classify  the  different  systems  which  have  been  in  vogue, 
more  or  less,  in  every  age  of  the  world.  Having  obtained  four  great 
generic  systems  as  the  result  of  this  classification,  I have  endeavored,  in 
the  first  part  of  my  plan,  to  trace  their  history  from  the  revival  of  letters 
to  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century ; in  the  second  part,  to  follow  up 
that  history  more  minutely  to  the  present  age ; and  in  the  third  part,  to 
discover  their  tendencies  as  it  respects  the  future. 

I would  beg  leave,  further,  to  make  one  or  two  remarks  on  the  phra- 
seology which  I have  found  it  necessary  to  employ,  and  to  which  some, 
perhaps,  might  be  inclined  to  make  objection.  There  are  four  expres- 
sions which  occupy  a very  prominent  place  throughout  the  whole  work, 
and  those  are — sensationalism,  idealism,  scepticism,  and  mysticism.  Now 
of  these  four,  the  first,  I believe,  is  a word  entirely  new,  and,  therefore, 
demands  some  apology  for  its  introduction.  For  some  time  I used  the 
term  sensualism,  adopting  it  literally  from  the  French  philosophy;  but 
the  associations  which  that  expression  has  with  what  is  morally  vicious 
was  so  strong,  that  I was  soon  induced  to  abandon  it  altogether.  Next,  I 
thought  of  sensism  and  sensationism,  as  being  terms  well  adapted  to  de- 
scribe the  philosophy  which  builds  itself  up  upon  sense,  or  sensation  ; but 
these  seemed  to  fail  in  respect  to  taste  and  euphony.  Lastly,  I adopted 
the  term  sensationalism,  as  being  at  the  same  time  more  in  accordance 
with  the  analogy  of  our  language,  and  more  euphonious  to  the  ear. 

With  this  explanation,  I trust  no  further  apology  will  be  considered 
necessary,  for  the  liberty  here  taken,  of  coining  a new  term.  Had  an 
old  one  been  in  existence,  it  would  certainly  have  been  employed  in  pref- 
erence. The  next  term  I mentioned  above  was  idealism  ; and  this  also 
required  no  little  consideration  ere  it  was  adopted.  The  term  rationalism 
would  certainly  have  been  better  adapted  to  express  a philosophy  starting 
from  conceptions  of  reason,  rather  than  intimations  of  sense ; but  then 
it  has  acquired  such  notoriety  in  the  religious  world,  that  I well  knew 
the  penalty  of  pressing  it  into  my  service.  On  the  whole,  therefore,  as 
the  term  idea  is  now  very  frequently  used  to  signify  a mental  concep- 
tion, in  opposition  to  a sensational  feeling,  I thought  it  not  inappropriate 
to  apply  the  word  idealism,  in  the  general  sense  in  wdiich  it  is  found  in 
the  following  pages.  The  terms  scepticism  and  mysticism  need  no  com- 
ment; they  are  used  in  their  ordinary  philosophical  sense,  and  only  re- 
quire to  be  accompanied  by  the  single  caution,  that  they  be  not  under- 
stood on  any  occasion,  in  their  peculiarly  theological  acceptation.  With 
regard  to  such  terms  as  philosophy,  metaphysics,  science,  &c.,  I have 


VI 


PREFACE. 


not  employed  them  in  any  peculiar  and  distinctive  signification.  I have 
preferred  their  loose  popular  use,  as  being  more  adapted  to  an  historical 
inquiry ; and  trust  that,  wherever  they  are  employed  distinctively,  the 
meaning  intended  to  be  conveyed  will  be  clearly  pointed  out  by  the  con- 
nection, or  some  qualifying  adjunct  to  the  words  themselves. 

With  regard  to  that  portion  of  the  work  which  relates  to  the  German 
philosophy,  I think  it  due  to  myself  to  remind  the  reader  of  the  extreme 
difficulty  there  is  in  setting  forth  these  German  ideas  in  an  English 
dress.  The  mere  translation  of  any  of  the  writings  of  Hegel  or  Schel- 
ling,  or  even  of  Kant  himself,  into  English,  would  prove  entii’ely  unin- 
telligible  to  the  mass  of  English  readers.  The  only  method  of  adapting 
their  philosophy  to  the  English  mind,  is,  to  master  their  ideas,  and  then, 
having  thro^vn  all  books  on  one  side,  to  attempt  a reproduction  of  them, 
in  our  own  style  and  language.  How  far  I have  succeeded  in  doing 
this,  it  is  not  for  me  to  judge  j but  I can  only  express  my  conviction,  that 
by  due  reflection,  the  whole  of  what  is  really  valuable  in  the  German 
metaphysics,  might  be  made  just  as  comprehensible  to  all  ordinary  phi- 
losophical minds,  in  English,  as  it  is  in  any  other  language  whatever. 

The  only  point  to  which  I would  further  allude  is,  to  the  marks  of 
rapidity  and  brevity,  which  the  reader  may  notice,  in  discussing  some 
of  the  most  important  systems  which  come  before  us.  The  fact  is,  that 
I intended,  at  first,  simply  to  compile  a manual,  in  one  volume ; when  I 
found,  accordingly,  that  the  matter  increased  rapidly  upon  my  hands,  I 
constantly  wrote  under  the  desire  of  compression  ; and  it  was  not  till  the 
work  was  more  than  half  completed,  that  I found  it  necessary  to  enlarge 
my  original  plan.  The  first  three  chapters  must,  at  any  rate,  have  given 
but  a very  rapid  glance  at  the  subjects  there  treated  of ; the  intention  of 
them  being  simply  to  prepare  the  way  for  a right  estimate  of  philosophy 
in  the  present  century.  Iii  the  other  part  of  the  work,  however,  suffi- 
cient, I trust,  has  been  written,  to  give  a full  portraiture  of  the  principles 
upon  which  every  separate  school  is  founded. 

The  mature  philosopher,  moreover,  will  doubtless  feel  a want  of  depth 
in  the  discussion  of  some  of  the  great  points  which  our  criticism  in- 
volves. It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  I have  not  written  so 
much  for  philosophers  as  for  the  mass  of  educated  and  thinking  minds  in 
our  country.  With  this  view,  I have,  in  many  instances,  thought  it  right 
and  useful,  somewhat  to  sacrifice  depth  and  fulness  of  research  to  the 
desire  for  clearness  and  popularity. 

Should  the  present  attempt  meet  with  a favorable  reception,  1 shall 
consider  it  a sufficient  inducement  to  go  on  in  the  effort  I have  com- 
menced, of  bringing  the  great  questions  respecting  the  grounds  and 
validity  of  human  knowledge,  respecting  the  laws  of  thought,  and  re- 
specting the  history  of  their  scientific  development,  before  the  public. 
Sure  I am,  that  the  mechanical  tendency  of  the  age  is  fast  wearing  itself 


PREFACE. 


vn 


out,  and  that  the  current  of  philosophical  investigation  will  soon  begin  to 
flow  towards  the  elucidation  of  human  nature,  in  its  individual  and  in  its 
social  capacity.  In  such  investigations,  the  history  of  thought  will  alford 
some  of  the  principal  data  on  which  to  work.  Should  the  present  manual 
only  draw  attention  to  the  importance  of  the  subject,  and  lead  any  other 
minds  to  direct  their  energies  to  it,  I shall  not  fear  that  my  labor  will 
ultimately  prove  to  be  in  vain. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

In  offering  to  the  public  a second  and  enlarged  edition  of  the  present 
work,  there  are  some  few  explanations  into  which  I feel  it  requisite  to 
enter.  The  distinct  object  I had  in  view,  in  the  first  composition  of  the 
work,  was  to  make  an  unpopular  subject  as  clear  and  interesting  as  pos- 
sible. I expressly  stated,  in  the  preface  to  the  first  edition,  that  I had 
not  written  for  the  scientific  ; but  that,  impressed  with  the  importance  of 
philosophical  truth  generally,  I had  endeavored  to  make  its  chief  prob- 
lems accessible  to  the  mass  of  educated  and  thinking  minds. 

I did  not  then  realize,  on  the  one  hand,  the  probability,  or  even  the  pos- 
sibility, that  this  feature  of  my  plan,  which  was  regarded  by  me  as  its 
chief  utility,  could  be  seized  upon  as  the  ground  either  of  objection  or 
attack.  On  the  other  hand,  I did  not  give  credit  to  the  British  public  at 
large,  for  sufficient  interest  in  the  abstruser  questions  of  philosophy, 
either  to  render  a more  full  discussion  of  them  necessary,  or  to  make 
any  copious  references  to  foreign  and  other  authorities  desirable.  In 
this  opinion,  I am  glad  to  find  I was  deceived. 

In  order,  therefore,  at  once  to  turn  aside  the  imputations  of  the  hyper- 
critical and  to  supply  the  wants  of  those  who  may  be  emulous  of  advan- 
cing  onwards  in  the  pathway  of  philosophy,  I have  thought  it  right  to 
offer  my  former  work  to  the  public  in  an  improved,  and  more  legitimately 
historical  form.* 

The  additions  now  made  may  be  easily  enumerated.  First,  the  notes 
at  the  foot  of  the  page  are  intended  to  furnish  somewhat  fuller  historical 

* One  word  with  regard  to  reviews.  Upon  those  which  have  taken  up  the  questions 
with  vigor  and  intelligence,  I have  made  some  remarks  in  the  notes  and  appendix, 
whenever  I thought  the  objections  demanded  attention.  To  those  who  have  attempted 
to  argue  against  philosophy,  without  understanding  anything  about  it ; or  have  under- 
taken to  refute  the  writers  of  France  and  Germany,  while  they  evidently  have  never 
read  through  a philosophical  work  in  either  language,  I have  not  thought  it  worth  the 
trouble  to  reply. 


via 


PREFACE. 


information,  wherever  it  seemed  requisite,  respecting  the  authors  whose 
opinions  are  described,  and  to  point  out  the  portions  of  their  works,  in 
whicli  the  more  important  features  of  their  respective  systems  are  con- 
tained. Secondly,^  this  distinctive  reference  to  the  works  in  question, 
has,  in  many  instances,  demanded  a more  distinctive  and  detailed  de- 
scription of  the  systems  themselves  in  the  text.  Some  of  the  articles, 
indeed,  have  been  entirely  re-written ; others  have  been  considerably 
enlarged  ; while  all  have  been  carefully  revised. 

Thirdly,  a considerable  quantity  of  matter  in  the  present  edition  is 
entirely  new,  not  only  with  regard  to  the  treatment  of  the  subjects,  but 
with  regard  to  the  subjects  themselves.  This  new  matter  refers  chiefly 
to  authors  and  systems,  of  which  no  previous  mention  was  made,  but  of 
which,  for  the  sake  of  historical  completeness,  I have  thought  it  right  to 
give  some  distinct  account.  Moreover,  in  the  conclusion  and  appendix, 
there  will  be  found  a somewhat  fuller  development  of  the  author’s 
views,  on  some  points  connected  with  the  method  of  philosophical  inves- 
tigation, and  the  grounds  of  natural  theology. 

With  regard  to  the  philosophical  doctrines  which  are  advocated,  I am 
not  aware  that  these  are,  in  any  respect,  modified  ; the  revision  being 
entirely  confined,  either  to  the  more  precise  expression  of  the  ideas  them- 
selves, or  to  the  correction  of  some  minor,  chiefly  historical,  errors, 
which  had  before  unwittingly  crept  into  the  text.  There  is  one  point 
only,  on  which  I am  desirous  of  making  a few  remarks,  and  that  is  on 
the  subject  of  Locke  and  his  philosophy. 

The  real  sentiments  of  the  “ Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding” 
have  long,  been,  and  to  all  appearance  are  long  likely  to  be,  a disputed 
point  between  metaphysicians  of  different  schools.  It  is,  at  once,  instruc- 
tive and  amusing  to  read  the  various  comments  which  have  been  called 
forth  upon  this  topic.  On  the  one  hand,  I have  been  taken  to  task,  b\r 
no  mean  authority,  for  favoring  Locke’s  sensualism  too  much,  and  not 
exposing  its  bitter  and  baneful  consequences.  On  the  other  hand,  I have 
been  just  as  severely  criticized,  for  ?iOif  doing  justice  to  our  great  country- 
man. By  one  party,  that,  namely,  professing  extreme  sensationalism, 
Ijocke  has  been  claimed  as  an  unconditional  supporter  of  their  peculiar 
views  ; while,  by  another  party,  it  is  admitted,  that  the  philosophy  I have 
maintained,  is  correct  ■,  but  it  is  affirmed  that  Locke’s  philosophy  is  pre- 
cisely the  same  ! 

The  most  obvious  conclusion  we  must  draw  from  these  phenomena,  is 
— that  whatever  be  Locke’s  views,  they  arc  not  very  easy  to  come  at ; 
that  whether  it  be  from  want  of  precision  in  the  style,  or  whether  from 
a want  of  uniformity  in  the  opinions,  the  Essay  is  such,  upon  the  w’hole, 
as  to  lead  different  minds  to  very  opposite  conclusions.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  both  parties  have  much  to  say  for  themselves,  and  that 
they  can  each  bring  an  array  of  passages  from  different  portions  of  the 


PREFACE. 


IX 


Essay,  which  appear  to  establish  conclusively  their  several  hypotheses. 
Under  these  circumstances,  the  only  course  remaining,  is  to  look  to  the 
spirit  which  breathes  through  the  entire  work,  and  to  estimate,  in  this 
way,  its  general  bearing.  I am  still  of  the  same  opinion  as  ever,  that 
any  one  honestly  and  intelligently  following  this  course,  would  class 
Locke  midway  between  the  philosophy  which  finds  a distinct  and  a 'priori 
soiirce  of  ideas  in  the  reason,  and  that  which  makes  sensation  the  gen- 
erating principle  of  all  our  mental  activity.  That  he  maintains  the  ex- 
istence of  active  faculties,  without  which  we  could  not  possess  any  of  the 
so-termed  “ ideas  of  refiection,”  no  one,  as  I before  showed,  can  for  a 
moment  deny ; but  to  suppose  that  these  faculties  involve  anything  more 
than  a mere  formal  and  logical  mechanism,  or  have  any  real  material  to 
act  upon,  except  that  which  is  furnished  by  the  senses,  appears  to  me  to 
be  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Locke’s  whole  polemic  against  innate  ideas  ; 
as  it  was  also  to  that  of  Kant’s  “ Critick  of  Pure  Reason.”  The  charge 
of  having  viewed  Locke,  simply  thi'ough  foreign  authorities,  I utterly 
disclaim.  His  Essay  was  my  first  companion  in  philosophy,  and  I 
studied  it  throughout,  long  before  I ever  opened  a single  work  of  any 
French  or  German  writer.  The  reason  I have  followed,  in  the  main, 
Cousin’s  criticisms,  is,  primarily,  because  I considered  them  very  near 
the  truth ; and,  secondly,  because  they  present  the  subject  in  a form  best 
calculated  for  giving  a popular  view  of  the  whole  question. 

In  admiration  of  Locke  as  a man  and  a thinker,  I yield  to  none,  even 
of  his  warmest  partisans.  So  long  as  integrity  in  moral  principle,  firm- 
ness in  purpose,  practical  vigor  of  intellect,  and  sincerity  in  religious 
profession,  are  admired  in  the  genuine  English  character,  will  Locke 
ever  stand  forth  as  one  of  its  noblest  examples.  But  it  must  be  abun- 
dantly evident  to  every  mind,  (except  perhaps  to  those  which  are  cast 
in  his  own  mould,)  that  Locke  belongs  to  that  class  of  thinkers,  who  live 
more  amongst  the  forms  and  definitions  of  logical  ideas,  than  to  those  who 
seek  direct  intuitions  of  higher  truth  j that  he  seldom  or  never  tran- 
scends the  region  of  the  understanding,  to  gaze  upon  the  conceptions 
which  are  only  accessible  to  the  pure  reason.  With  those  who  deny 
this  distinction  in  mental  character,  I have  little  or  no  expectation  of 
coming  to  any  adjustment  upon  the  philosophy  of  our  great  countryman. 
And,  therefore,  I anticipate,  that  so  long  as  the  two  great  schools  of  sen- 
sationalism and  idealism  last,  the  contest  will  be  ever  renewed  and  never 
concluded.  I only  express  the  hope,  that  the  future  combatants  will 
avoid  that  unhappy  dogmatism,  which  always  arises  from  sheer  inca- 
pacity of  seeing  beyond  one’s  own  system  ; and  that  instead  of  bolstering 
up  their  particular  view,  by  casting  gratuitous  imputations  on  the  sense 
or  honesty  of  their  opponents,  (which,  be  it  remembered,  are  retorted  as- 
easily  as  made,)  they  will  learn  that  truth  may  be  gazed  on  from  msmy 


PREFACE. 


diUcrcnt  points  of  view,  each  of  which  may  have  its  advantages  as  well 
as  its  defects.* 

The  rapid  sale  of  the  former  edition  of  this  work,  has  given  a decisive 
()roof  that  the  interest  felt  in  philosophy  in  our  own  country,  is  far  from 
being  inconsiderable.  To  the  hope  that  the  present  attempt  may  foster 
the  love  for  subjects  which  are  of  such  vast  importance  in  the  political, 
moral,  and  religious  development  of  every  people,  the  present  improved 
edition  is  now  consecrated. 

♦ To  express  more  fully  what  I mean,  by  numbering  Locke  amongst  logical,  rather 
than  intuitional  thinkers,  I cannot  avoid  quoting  a parallel  which  has  been  drawn  by  a 
writer  of  no  mean  abilities  between  the  genius  of  Locke  and  that  of  William  Penn. 
“ Locke,  like  William  Penn,  was  tolerant;  both  loved  freedom,  both  cherished  truth  in 
sincerity.  But  Locke  kindled  the  torch  of  hberty  at  the  fires  of  tradition ; Penn  at  the 
living  light  in  the  soul.  Locke  sought  truth  through  the  senses  and  the  outward 
world ; Penn  looked  inward  to  the  Divine  revelations  in  every  mind.  Locke  compared 
the  soul  to  a sheet  of  white  paper,  just  as  Hobbes  had  compared  it  to  a slate,  on  which 
time  and  ehance  might  scrawl  their  experience;  to  Penn,  the  soul  was  an  organ 
which  of  itself  instinctively  breathes  Divine  harmonies,  like  those  musical  instruments 
which  are  so  curiously  and  perfectly  framed,  that,  when  once  put  in  motion,  they 
of  themselves  give  forth  all  the  melodies  designed  by  the  artist  that  made  them.  To 
Locke,  ‘ Conscience  is  nothing  else  than  our  own  opinion  of  our  own  actions ;’  to  Penn 
it  is  the  image  of  God  and  his  oracle  in  the  soul.  Locke,  who  was  never  a father, 
esteemed  ‘ the  duty  of  parents  to  preserve  their  children  not  to  be  understood  without 
reward  and  punishment ;’  Penn  loved  his  children  with  not  a thought  for  the  con- 
sequences. Locke,  who  was  never  married,  declares  marriage  an  affair  of  the  senses  ; 
Penn  reverenced  woman  as  the  object  of  fervent,  inward  affection,  made,  not  for  lust, 
but  for  love.  In  studying  the  understanding,  Locke  begins  with  the  sources  of 
knowledge ; Penn  with  an  inventory  of  our  intellectual  treasures.  Locke  deduces 
government  from  Noah  and  Adam,  rests  it  upon  contract,  and  announces  its  end  to  be 
the  security  of  property ; Penn,  far  from  going  back  to  Adam,  or  even  to  Noah, 
declares  ‘ that  there  must  be  a people  before  a government,’  and,  deducing  the  right  to 
institute  government  from  man’s  moral  nature,  seeks  its  fundamental  rules  in  the 
immutable  dictates  of  ‘ universal  reason,’  its  end  in  freedom  and  happiness.  The 
system  of  Locke  lends  itself  to  contending  factions  of  the  most  opposite  interests 
and  purposes ; the  doctrine  of  Pox  and  Penn,  being  but  the  common  creed  of  humanity, 
forbids  division,  and  insures  the  highest  moral  unity.  To  Locke,  happiness  is  pleasure ; 
things  are  good  and  evil  only  in  reference  to  pleasure  and  pain ; and  to  inquire  after 
the  highest  good,  is  as  absurd  as  to  dispute  whether  the  best  relish  be  in  ‘ apples,  plums, 
or  nuts ;’  Penn  esteemed  happiness  to  lie  in  the  subjection  of  the  baser  instincts,  to  the 
instinct  of  Deity  in  the  breast,  good  and  evil  to  be  eternally  and  always  as  unlike  as 
truth  and  falsehood,  and  the  inquiry  after  the  highest  good  to  involve  the  purpose 
of  existence.  Locke  says  plainly,  ‘ that,  but  for  rewards  and  punishments  beyond  the 
grave,  it  is  certainly  right  to  eat,  drink,  and  enjoy  what  we  delight  in  ;’  Penn,  like 
Plato  and  Penelon,  maintained  the  doctrine  so  terrible  to  despots,  that  God  is  to  be 
loved  for  his  own  sake,  and  virtue  to  be  practised  for  its  intrinsic  loveliness.  Locke 
derives  the  idea  of  infinity  from  the  senses,  Jescribes  it  as  purely  negative,  and 
attributes  it  to  nothing  but  space,  duration,  and  number ; Penn  derived  the  idea  from 
the  soul,  and  ascribed  it  to  truth,  and  virtue,  and  God.  Locke  declares  immortality  a 
matter  with  which  reason  has  nothing  to  do,  and  that  revealed  truth  must  be  sustained 
by  outward  signs  and  visible  acts  of  power;  Penn  saw  truth  by  its  own  light,  and 
summoned  the  soul  to  bear  witness  to  its  own  glory.  Locke  believed  not  so  many  men 
in  wrong  opinions  as  is  commonly  supposed,  because  the  greatest  part  have  no  opinions 
at  all,  and  do  not  know  what  they  contend  for ; Penn  likewise  vindicated  the  many, 
but  it  was  because  truth  is  the  common  inheritance  of  the  race.  Locke,  in  his  love  of 
tolerance,  inveighed  against  the  methods  of  persecution  as  ‘ Popish  practices ;’  Penn 
censured  no  sect,  but  condemned  bigotry  of  all  sorts  as  inhuman.” — BANCROPf’s  History 
of  the  United  States. 

Gloucester  Crescent,  Rege.nt’s  Park,  May  2,  1847. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION. 

Page 


Sect.  I. — Philosophy  explained 19 

Sect.  II. — Objections  against  Philosophy  answered 21 

1st  Objection.  That  our  knowledge  is  confined  to  sensible 

phenomena 22 

2d  Objection.  That  the  deepest  thinkers  come  to  opposite  con- 
clusions   26 

3d  Objection.  That  philosophy  has  no  practical  utility  . . 29 

4th  Objection.  That  philosophy  is  superseded  by  revelation  . 31 


Sect.  III. — Rise  of  Philosophy  inevitable 36 

1 . The  power  of  accurate  generalization  is  the  true  index  of  the 

extent  of  our  knowledge 38 

2.  Every  branch  of  human  knowledge,  if  fully  generalized,  leads 

to  philosophy 39 

Nature  of  philosophy  illustrated 43 


Sect.  TV.— Primary  Elements  of  Human  Knowledge 
Aristotle’s  Categories 
Kant’s  Categories  . • . . 

Cousin’s  Categories 
Analysis  of  our  primary  ideas  . 


46 

47 


51 


Sect.  V.— Systems  of  Philosophl 
Sens^' — — 


fiealism 
S^cepticism 
Mysticism 
i Eclecticism 


55 

55 

56 

57 

58 

59 


\u 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

ON  THE  PROXIMATE  SOURCES  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF 
THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

CHAPTER  I. 

ON  THE  PROGRESS  OF  SENSATIONALISM,  FROM  THE  PERIOD  OF  BACON  TO  THE 
COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

Page 

Sect.  I. — Commencement  of  Modern  Philosophy 61 

Revival  of  ancient  systems  . 62 

New  doctrines  advocated  by  Ramus,  Telesius,  &c.  . . .62 

Bacon 63 

His  influence  on  speculative  philosophy 64 

Hobbes  . 71 

Sect.  II. — Criticism  of  Locke 76 

His  methodology 77 

Theory  of  maxims 83 

Theory  of  ideas 85 

Locke’s  ontology 92 

Sect.  III. — Effects  of  Locke  in  England 96 

Collins,  Dodwell,  &c 96 

Hartley  ...........  96 

Priestley 101 

Home  Tooke  103 

Sect.  IV. — Effects  of  Locke  in  France  and  Germany 104 

Condillac 104 

Bonnet  . . 109 

Helvetius 110 

St.  Lambert Ill 

Baron  d’Holbach  . . Ill 

D’Alembert,  &c.  112 

French  Encyclopaedia 112 

Herder,  Tiedemann 113 

CHAPTER  II.  . 

ON  THE  PROGRESS  OF  IDEALISM,  FROM  THE  PERIOD  OF  DESCARTES  TO  THE 
COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

Sect.  I. — First  Movement  seen  in 

Descartes 115 

Geulincx .122 


CONTENTS. 


Xlll 


Page 

Malebranche 122 

Spinoza  . . . . ' 124 

Sect.  II. — Second  Movement. 

English  polemical  idealism 132 

Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury 133 

Cumberland 134 

Cud  worth 134 

Shaftesbury 137 

Wollaston,  Clarke 137 

Butler 140 

^ Berkeley 141 

Price 143 

Harris 144 

Sect.  111.— Third  Movement. 

German  idealism 145 

Leibnitz 147 

Wolf 151 

Kant  153 

Critick  of  pure  reason 154 

Critick  of  the  practical  reason 169 

Critick  of  the  judgment ^ . . . 170 

Estimate  of  Kant 171 

Reinhold 177 

Sect.  IV. — Scottish  Philosophy 179 

Hutcheson 179 

Adam  Smith 180 

Dr.  Reid 181 

His  theory  of  perception 182 

Beattie 189 

Oswald 190 

CHAPTER  III. 

ON  the  different  forms  of  scepticism  and  mysticism  which  have  arisen 
FROM  the  preceding  SYSTEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

Nature  and  relations  of  Scepticism  and  Mysticism 191 

Sect.  I. — Scepticism  and  Mysticism  on  the  Continent,  from  the  Period  of 

Descartes  to  the  Commencement  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  194 

A.  First  period — originating  from  Descartes  and  Gassendi  . . 194 

B.  Second  period — originating  from  Locke  and  Leibnitz  . . 207 

C.  Third  period — originating  with  Kant  and  Condillac  . . 209 


XIV 


• CONTENTS. 


Sect.  II. — Scepticism  and  Mysticism  in  England,  from  the  Time  of  Bacon 
to  the  Commencement  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 


Glanville,  Fludd,  Henry  More 210 

Gale,  Pordage,  Poiret 213 

David  Hume 215 


PART  II. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  NINE- 
TEENTH CENTURY. 


Preliminary  Remarks 226 


CHAPTER  IV. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MODERN  SENSATIONALISM. 


Sect.  I. — Modem  Sensationalism  in  England  . 

. 236 

A.  Sensational  metaphysicians 

. 236 

Mill’s  (Jas.)  Analysis  .... 

■ Mill’s  (John  Stuart)  System  of  Logic 

. 252 

Controversy  with  Dr.  Whewell  . 

. 254 

Lewes,  G.  N 

. 258 

B.  Sensational  moralists 

1.  Objective  sensational  ethics  . 

. 266 

Paley’s  utilitarianism  .... 

. 267 

Bentham’s  deontology  .... 

. 272 

2.  Subjective  sensational  ethics  . 

. 280 

Doctrines  of  liberty  and  necessity  argued 

. 281 

Socialism 

. 293 

Remarks  on  the  necessarian  controversy 

. 299 

C.  Sensational  physiologists  .... 

. 302 

Use  of  physiology  in  philosophy  . 

. 303 

Non-materialists 

. 306 

Phrenology 

. 308 

Materialism 

. 318 

Sect.  n. — Modern  Sensationalism  in  France 

. 334 

Cabanis 

Garat  and  Volney 

Destutt  de  Tracy 

CONTENTS. 


XV 


Page 

Criticism  of  the  French  ideology 344 

Broussais 351 

Comte  354 

CHAPTER  V. 

Characteristics  of  modern  ideai.ism 363 

Sect.  I. — The  Scottish  School  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  ....  364 

Dugal  Stewart 365 

Dr.  Thomas  Brown 375 

Young,  Mylne,  Ballantine,  and  Abercrombie  ....  390 

Estimate  of  the  Scottish  philosophy 391 

Edinburgh  Review — Sir  J.  Mackintosh 405 

Sir  W.  Hamilton 406 

Sect.  II. — The  German  School  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  ....  409 

Analysis  of  it 413 

Fichte •.  . 414 

Schelling 433 

^ Hegel 456 

Hegelian  school 477 

Goschell,  Erdmann,  Gabler,  Schaller 479 

Rosenkranz,  Marheineke,  Vatke,  Michelet 479 

Strauss,  Bauer,  Conradi,  Feuerbach 480 

Herbart 482 

Latest  writers,  Fichte,  &c. 489 

Sect.  HI. — The  English  School  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  ....  496 

A.  Scoto-English  metaphysicians 498 

Dr.  Payne 499 

Isaac  Taylor 500 

Mr.  B.  Smart 501 

Cambridge  school  of  philosophy 603 

Professor  Whewell 504 

B.  Germano-English  Metaphysicians 507 

Carlyle 508 

“ Small  books  on  great  subjects” 512 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MODERN  SCEPTICISM. 

Sect.  I. — Modem  Scepticism  generally — in  England  ....  613 
Absolute  scepticism .615 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

Scepticism  of  authority  . . . . . . . . 618 

Scepticism  of  ignorance  . . . . w . . .621 

Sect.  II. — Modem  Scepticism  in  France 622 

M.  de  Maistre 624 

Abb6  de  Lamennais 627 

Bonald 637 

Bautain . 639 

Baron  d’Eckstein 541 

Maret 542 

Scepticism  of  ignorance  in  France 647 

Sect.  III. — Modem  Scepticism  in  Germany 649 

Kant  as  a sceptic  550 

Schulze 662 

CHAPTER  VII. 

CHAEACTERISTICS  OF  MODERN  MYSTICISM 

Sect.  I. — Modem  Mysticism  generally — in  England 556 

1.  When  knowledge  is  gained  by  a regular  law  of  feeling  . . 562 

Coleridge 562 

Taylor 567 

Greaves — Barham . 568 

2.  When  knowledge  comes  through  a fixed  supernatural  chan- 

nel   570 

Sewell 671 

Wardlaw . 576 

3.  When  knowledge  is  gained  by  extraordinary  supernatural 

means 677 

Sect.  n. — Modem  Mysticism  in  France 578 

St.  Simonism  579 

Fourier 582 

Pierre  Leroux  and  J.  Renaud 590 

Buchez 693 

Ballanche 694 

Sect.  HI. — Modem  Mysticism  in  Germany 596 

Jacobi 697 

School  of  Jacobi-Kant 603 

Bouterwek 603 

Krug 604 

Fries • 606 

Calker 607 


CONTENTS. 


XVll 


School  of  Jacobi-Fichte 

Page 
. 608 

Schlegel 

. 608 

Schleiermacher 

. 615 

Novalis  . • . . 

. 621 

School  of  Jacohi-Schelling 

. 623 

Schubert 

. 624 

Baader  .... 

. 625 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

ON  THE  ECLECTIC  SCHOOL  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


Sect.  I. — Rise  and  Progress  of  Modern  Eclecticism  in  France  . . . 629 

M.  Laromiguiere .631 

M.  Royer-Collard  634 

Maine  de  Biran 637 

Cousin 641 

Jouffroy 662 

Damiron  667 

Sect.  II. — Collateral  Branches  of  the  Eclective  Philosophy  ....  675 

B.  Constant 676 

Madame  de  Stael 676 

M.  Degerando  677 

Physiological  writers 679 

Germano-French  writers 681 

Swiss  writers  684 

Modem  French  writers 685 


PART  III. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

ON  THE  TENDENCIES  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


Sect.  I. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Sensationalism  ....  692 

A.  In  science 692 

B.  In  legislation 699 

C.  In  religion 702 


2 


xvni 


CONTENTS. 


Pag# 

Sect.  II. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Idealism  . . ...  . 707 

1.  In  science 707 

2.  In  legislation 711 

3.  In  religion 715 

Sect.  HI. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modem  Scepticism 720 

Sect.  IV. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Mysticism 726 


Appendix 


736 


INTRODUCTION. 


SECT.  I.— PHILOSOPHY  EXPLAINED. 


Everything  that  is  brought  into  existence  »must  have  a jina* 
cause.  The  final  cause  of  man’s  intellectual  faculties  is  to  know, 
and  the  material  of  knowledge  is  truth.  The  search  after  truth, 
therefore,  is  the  natural  sphere  of  our  mental  activity,  and  philoso- 
phy (which  is  the  name  we  give  to  this  process  when  it  is  carried 
on  with  intelligence  and  design)  is  at  once  a real  want,  and  a neces- 
sary product  of  the  human  mind. 

The  process  of  knowing,  however,  is  a very  gradual  one.  The 
infant  mind  appears  first  to  exist  in  a state  of  bare  receptivity. 
The  first  intellectual  impulse  that  manifests  itself,  is  simply  the  de- 
sire of  receiving  impressions,  which  pour  in  upon  it  from  every 
side,  with  the  greatest  possible  intensity.  As  the  mind  develops, 
these  impressions  are  remembered,  compared,  and  classified ; so 
that,  on  our  emerging  from  the  cloud  of  our  infancy,  we  find  that 
we  have  been  spontaneously  active  in  gaining  an  extensive  acquaint- 
ance with  the  phenomena  of  what  we  term  the  external  world. 
This  spontaneous  activity,  therefore,  we  find  has  even  thus  early 
given  us  a practical  knowledge  of  outward  things,  in  many  of  the 
relations  which  they  hold  to  ourselves  and  to  each  other ; and  the 
result  of  advancing  years  and  continued  experience  is,  in  ordinary 
cases,  simply  to  afford  us  the  means  of  a wider  observation,  of  a 
more  extensive  comparison,  and  of  a more  complete  classification 
of  them. 

This  knowledge  of  phenomena  (of  things  as  they  seem)  is  suffi- 
cient for  all  the  practical  wants  of  human  life ; and  the  mass  of 
mankind  are  content  to  confine  their  observation  to  them  alone, 
without  any  inquiry  respecting  their  real  nature,  the  mode  of  their 
subsistence,  or  the  medium  by  which  the  mind  perceives  them. 


20 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  life  of  men,  therefore,  who  are  thus  conversant  about  phenom- 
ena onl}',  we  term  spontaneous.  Their  mind,  stimulated  by  the 
externa]  world,  exercises  its  faculties  without  being  reflectively 
conscious  of  a single  mental  operation  ; impressions  and  ideas  exist, 
but  it  is  never  asked  how,  or  why,  they  exist ; mental  operations 
are  carried  on,  but  it  is  never  surmised  in  what  manner  they  are 
carried  on  ; knowledge  is  gained,  but  no  inquiry  is  raised  about  the 
grounds  or  certainty  of  it ; thought,  in  a word,  goes  forth,  but  it 
never  returns  to  render  account  of  itself,  or  to  inquire  how  it  has 
been  produced,  or  how  far  it  is  of  any  value,  as  being  an  accurate 
reflection  of  the  truth  of  things  as  they  are. 

Whilst,  however,  the  spontaneous  life  has  ever  been  that  of  the 
mass  of  mankind,  there  always  have  been  minds  that  could  not 
content  themselves  with  knowing  only  the  world  of  outward  phe- 
nomena. Their  mental  activity  having  first  gone  forth  to  grasp 
the  varied  forms  of  the  outward  world,  returned  back,  when  it  had 
accomplished  this  purpose,  to  inquire  how  the  process  had  been 
managed,  what  were  the  powers  of  mind  employed,  and  what  con- 
fidence there  is  to  be  placed  in  the  result.  This  process  is  what  is 
properly  termed  reflection ; and  the  reflective  life,  accordingly,  is 
that  which  attempts  to  render  a true  account  of  the  spontaneous 
life  of  man.  The  first  man  that  reflected  was  the  first  speculative 
philosopher, — the  first  time  that  ever  thought  returned  to  inquire 
into  itself  and  arrest  its  own  trains,  was  the  commencement  of 
intellectual  philosophy;  and  once  commenced,  it  was  inevitable 
that  philosophy  should  continue  as  long  as  a problem  was  left  in 
the  mental  or  moral  world  to  be  solved.  The  primary  efforts  of 
reason  to  get  at  the  ground  principles  of  human  knowledge  were 
naturally  weak  and  imperfect;  but  as  reflection  progressed  the 
path  became  clearer,  until  some  one  individual  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary reflective  power  arrived,  as  he  considered,  at  a solution  of  the 
main  problems  of  human  life,  and  sent  it  forth  as  such  into  the 
world.  This  was  the  first  system  of  philosophy ; and  as  successive 
attempts  to  do  the  same  thing  have  differed  in  respect  to  their  prin- 
ciples, their  method,  their  extent,  and  their  results,  so  they  have 
given  rise  to  the  different  systems  of  philosophy,  which  have  been 
thrown  up  to  the  light  of  day  by  the  ever-flowing  tide  of  human 
thought,  and  the  ever-restless  striving  of  the  human  reason.  _ 
/ Philosophy  has  been  variously  defined.  By  some  it  is  termed 
/ “ the  science  of  the  absolute  and  universal ;”  by  others,  it  is  viewed 
\ as  that  which  is  to  explain  the  principles  and  causes  of  all  things ; 


INTRODUCTION. 


21 


whilst  others,  again,  denominate  it  that  branch  of  human  knowl- 
edge which  is  conversant  with  abstract  and  necessary  truth.*  All 
these  definitions,  and  many  others  which  might  be  mentioned, 
amount,  in  fact,  very  nearly  to  the  same  thing.  If  it  were  neces- 
sary to  make  the  idea  of  philosophy  still  clearer,  perhaps  we  might 
say  that  it  is  the  science  of  realities  in  opposition  to  that  of  mere 
appearances, — the  attempt  to  comprehend  things  as  they  are,  rather 
than  as  they  seem.  Starting  originally  from  phenomena,  internal 
and  external,  it  seeks  to  discover  what  reality  there  is  beneath 
them,  what  is  the  law  of  their  development,  and  what  the  ground 
of  their  existence.  Thus,  if  it  treat  of  the  subjective  world,  it  in- 
quires into  the  nature  and  validity  of  our  faculties,  into  the  true 
foundation  of  our  knowledge  and  faith ; if,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
treat  of  the  objective  world,  it  strives  to  look  through  the  outward 
appearance  of  things,  and  comprehend  the  essence  by  which  they 
are  upheld ; having  done  this,  it  next  seeks  to  determine  the  con- 
nection that  subsists  between  subject  and  object,  and  the  common 
origin  from  which  they  both  proceed.  In  carrying  on  this  process 
of  inquir)^,  the  human  mind  can  never  content  itself  with  a super- 
structure of  knowledge  which  is  either  uncertain  in  its  foundations 
or  imperfect  in  any  of  its  parts  ; accordingly  the  philosophic  spirit, 
when  once  begun,  ever  strives  after  a perfected  system,  in  which 
every  phenomenon  within  or  around  it  shall  be  accounted  for,  and 
every  problem  analyzed  and  solved.  The  history  of  the  continued 
progress  of  this  attempt  to  unfold  abstract  and  fundamental  truth, 
is  the  history  of  philosophy ; the  different  systems  are  but  different 
movements  of  the  whole  process,  and  the  united  sum  of  such  truth 
the  world  is  the  fruit  of  philosophy  up  to  the 


Philosophy  (regarded  in  the  light  in  which  we  have  placed  it,  as 
the  striving  of  man’s  reason  to  comprehend  the  great  problems  of 
the  world  within  and  the  world  without,  to  probe  their  real  nature 

* Tennemann  defines  philosophy  as  “ Wissenschaft  der  letzten  Griinde  und  Gesetze 
der  Natur  und  Freiheit,  so  wie  ihres  Verhaltnisses  zu  einander.”  Fi(^.  Gmndriss  der 
Ges.  der  Phil.  p.  2. 

For  a perspicuous  explanation  of  the  idea  of  Philosophy,  vid.  “ Manuel  de  PhUo- 
sophie,”  par  BIM.  Jaques,  Simon,  and  Saisset.  p.  5,  et  seq. 

The  following  definition  has  been  suggested  to  me  as  comprehending  every  essential 
point — “ Philosophy  is  the  science  which  reduces  all  things  to  the  region  of  pure  Ideas 
— and  then  traces  their  connection  and  unity.” 


Sect.  II. — Objections  Answered. 


22 


INTRODUCTION. 


and  assign  their  true  origin)  has  often  met  with  no  little  opposition, 
and  even  contempt,  as  being  either  in  the  nature  of  things  an  im- 
possibility, or  if  not  impossible,  yet,  at  least,  altogether,  fruitless. 
It  may  be  proper,  therefore,  to  notice  the  principal  forms  in  which 
one  or  other  of  these  objections  have  been  brought  forward,  and 
to  weigh  their  validity. 


,1  I.  It  has  often  been  urged  that  our  possible  knowledge  is  con- 
' ' fined  to  phenomena,  which  come  to  us  primarily  through  the  senses, 
arranged  and  modified  as  the  case  may  be  by  subsequent  reflec- 
tion ; that  all  we  have  to  do,  accordingly,  is  to  investigate  and  in- 
terpret nature ; that  this  has  acknowledgedly  led,  and  may  still  lead 
us,  to  splendid  results ; but  that  when  we  step  beyond  the  observ- 
ance and  classification  of  sensible  phenomena,  so  far  from  getting 
at  any  deeper  results,  we  are  going  away  from  the  beat  of  human 
knowledge  altogether,  into  absolute  darkness  and  uncertainty.*  To 
this,  however,  the  metaphysician  replies, — that,  however  correct 
such  a view  of  things  may  seem  to  the  mere  naturalist,  yet  it  is 
impossible  for  the  human  reason  as  a whole  abruptly  to  stop  at  the 
limits  of  mere  observation,  and  rest  satisfied  with  the  results  it 
aflbrds  without  striving  or  desiring  to  advance  beyond  them.  And 
if  it  be  asked,  why  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  rest  satisfied  when  the 
mind  has  done  its  best  in  making  observations  and  classifying 
them ; there  are  many  reasons  that  at  once  present  themselves  in 
reply.  First,  how  do  we  know  that  our  observations  are  correct? 
I what  is  the  ground  of  our  confidence  in  our  own  sensations  ? are 
we  quite  certain  that  the  representations  of  external  things  within 
our  own  minds,  is  a correct  delineation  of  the  truth  of  things  with- 
al out  ? Of  many  of  our  sensations  we  become  convinced,  by  a 
very  little  reflection,  that  they  cannot  possibly  have  any  external 
reality  answering  to  them.  Colors,  for  example,  arise  from  the 
separation  of  the  rays  of  light,  and  sounds  are  produced  by  pulsa- 
tions of  the  air ; but  will  any  one  assert  that  anything  external 
exists  at  all  similar  to  the  impression  of  colors  or  sounds  which 
>-lwe  experience  within  ? Where,  again,  is  the  outward  reality  to 
.^which  the  inward  sensations  of  bitter  and  sweet  correctly  answer  1 
Ir  ^ It  is  true  that  such  sensations  may  prove  to  us  the  existence  of 

some  powers  of  nature  out  of  ourselves;  but  is  equally  true  that 


CL^' 


..nT 


* This  objection  was  practically  exhibited  in  the  spirit  of  the  French  Encyclopsedia 
in  the  last  century.  In  the  present  century  it  has  been  reiterated  by  the  advocates  of 
the  poxUive  philosophy.  Firf.  “ Cours  de  Philosophie  positive” — par  .4uguste  Comte. 
See  also  the  same  explained  in  a pamphlet  by  M.  Littre — “ De  la  Philosophie  positive.” 
For  a further  account  of  this  system,  the  reader  is  referred  to  Section  ii.,  Chapter  IV. 


INTRODUCTION. 


23 


what  we  perceive  is  simply  our  own  relation  to  these  powers,  that 
all  we  can  directly  observe  in  each  case  is  our  own  subjective 
state,  and  that  whatever  these  arrangements  of  nature  may  be  in 
themselves  separate  from  our  own  feeling,  they  are  to  us  wholly 
unknown.  And  if  this  be  the  case  with  some  of  our  sensations, 
why,  it  might  be  argued,  may  it  not  be  so  with  all  ? If,  for  exam- 
ple, I see  an  external  object,  what  do  I perceive  directly  but  niy 
own  subjective  state,  and  where  is  the  proof  that  this  subjective 
state  is  a perfect  exemplar  or  pattern  of  the  outward  reality  ? Is 
there  any  ground  of  certainty  on  this  point,  or  is  there  not  ? In 
either  case  philosophy  is  necessary,  on  the  one  hand  to  show  the 
ground  of  the  certainty,  if  there  be  any, — on  the  other,  to  prove 
to  us  that  there  is  none,  and  thus  to  fix  the  limits  of  human  knowl- 
edge ; and  show  where  we  must  begin  to  rest  upon  a simple  and 
undemonstrable  belief. 

But  the  metaphysician  goes  a step  further  in  his  reply.  You 
outward  observers,  he  says,  it  is  true,  collect  together  many  facts 
of  a diversified  and  interesting  character,  and  deduce  many  em- 
pirical laws,  but  what  is  the  nature  of  this  knowledge  ? You  know 
after  all  only  passing  phenomena,  objects  that  are  ever  liable  to 
change.  The  knowledge  of  single  things,  and  mere  empirical 
laws,  however  great  in  extent,  is  no  real  knowledge  at  all,  for 
they  may  all  pass  away,  or  alter  their  relations ; and  then  what 
was  knowledge  becomes  error.  I want  to  know  if  there  is  not 
such  a thing  as  absolute  knowledge, — whether  there  is  not  truth 
that  must  be  ever  and  unchangeably  truth, — whether  there  is  not 
an  immutable  basis  behind  all  this  multiplicity  of  contingent  phe- 
nomena ; whether  I cannot  find  something  that  is  necessary,  and 
which  will  serve  as  a foundation,  on  which  to  erect  a system  of 
real  and  unalterable  science.  If  there  be  such  absolute  truth,  it 
must  be  elicited  by  philosophical  thinking ; if  there  be  not,  then 
philosophy  is  equally  necessary  to  convince  me  that  I can  have 
no  knowledge  beyond  what  is  contingent, — that  is,  that  I can  have 
no  knowledge  which  may  not  at  some  future  time  be  error  and 
delusion. 

So  far  the  metaphysician  answers  the  objection  of  the  mere  out- 
ward observer,  even  upon  his  own  principle,  “ That  all  our  possible 
knowledge  is  confined  to  the  perception  and  subsequent  classifica- 
tion of  phenomena.”  But  now,  after  having  shown  that,  even 
in  that  case,  there  is  need  of  employing  speculative  philosophy  in 
order  to  investigate  the  validity  of  these  phenomena,  he  comes  to 


•24 


INTRODUCTION. 


i ; \ ‘ -G 

( -Ci 


1 I.  - V --  • A 
cJ  •<  '-I. 


the  principle  itself,  and  asks,  Is  it  veritably  a true  one  ? Is  there 
really  no  other  source  of  ideas  beside  sensations,  modified  as  they 
may  be  by  subsequent  reflection?  In  other  words,  is  there  no 
other  source  besides  experience  ? Should  any  one  assert  this,  then 
we  ask,  what  is  experience?  Experience  cannot  result  from  mere 
isolated  perceptions,  for  in  that  case  the  consciousness  of  one  mo- 
ment could  have  no  reference  to  that  of  another.  In  all  experi- 
ence a subject  is  implied  as  well  as  an  object ; the  multiplicity  of 
our  perceptions  is  all  referred  to  one  individual  mind,  by  which 
the  whole  inference  they  convey  is  gathered  up,  and  which  re- 
mains ever  essentially  the  same,  although  it  may  be  subject  to  an 
infinity  of  changes.  Whence,  then,  does  this  notion  of  self  arise  ? 
How  does  the  first  idea  of  it  cpme  to  us  ? Not  from  experience ; 
for  we  have  just  seen  that  it  virtually  exists  before  experience  is 
possible.  It  must  arise,  therefore,  from  some  prior  source,  and  if 
so,  furnishes  us  at  least  with  one  idea,  for  the  matter  of  which  we 
are  not  indebted  to  our  sensational  faculty.  And  if  the  fact  of 
experience  points  us  to  some  idea  previously  existing  in  the  mind, 
so  likewise  equally  does  the  whole  phenomenon  of  thought  or  re- 
flection. There  is  a unity  in  thought.  If  we  search  our  own 
consciousness,  we  find  that  however  varied  thought  may  be,  how- 
ever many  rays  it  may  send  forth  in  all  directions,  yet  they  all 
coincide  in  one  point,  all  emanating  from  a thinking  self,  which  is 
eternally  the  same  undivided  and  indivisible  Being.  But  whence 
comes  the  notion  of  this  unity  which  we  term  self?  Not  from 
mere  reflection ; for  all  reflection  supposes  it.  We  are  obliged, 
therefore,  to  look  about  for  some  other  origin  of  ideas  until  this 
matter  shall  be  cleared  up ; and  it  cannot  be  cleared  up  without 
the  application  of  philosophy. 

But  if  the  objector  is  not  satisfied  with  this  refutation  of  his 
principle,  the  metaphysician  goes  on  to  adduce  other  ideas,  and 
those  of  no  little  practical  moment,  which  he  feels  equally  inclined 
to  remove  from  the  whole  province  of  sensible  phenomena,  how- 
ever much  they  may  be  refined  or  generalized  by  after  reflection. 
Whence,  for  example,  come  the  notions  of  right  and  wrong? 
Twist  them  about  as  you  will,  and  tell  me  by  which  of  the  five 
senses  the  first  elements  of  these  notions  come  into  the  mind.  If 
they,  indeed,  do  come  from  reflection  upon  outward  phenomena, 
it  c^an  only  be  from  the  observation  that  one  course  of  conduct 
produces  painful  effects,  and  another  pleasing  ones ; that  right  and 
wrong,  therefore,  are  other  terms  for  useful  and  injurious ; that 


INTRODUCTION. 


25 


virtue  is  another  name  for  utility,  justice  for  convenience,  and 
conscience  a balancing  of  advantage  and.  disadvantage  : — a grave 
conclusion  assuredly,  and  one  that  lies  at  the  foundation  of  our 
practical  life,  one,  therefore,  which  we  ought  not  very  readily  to 
admit,  unless  it  be  proved  on  very  clear  and  philosophical  grounds. 
Forth,  then,  with  your  philosophy  to  give  us  satisfaction.  Whence 
again  arises  the  notion  of  causation  ? If  we  appeal  to  our  senses 
we  can  see,  it  is  true,  that  one  action  uniformly  follows  another, 
and  that  one  set  of  circumstances  uniformly  follows  another  set, 
as  far  at  least  as  our  own  experience  goes.  But  if  that  is  a suf- 
ficient account  of  our  notion  of  causation,  what  right  have  we  to 
take  for  granted  that  a cause  exists  at  all  in  cases  where  our  senses 
give  us  no  assistance,  and  which  lie  beyond  the  beat  of  our  own 
personal  experience  ? What,  then,  becomes  of  the  great  argument 
from  final  causes,  on  which  mainly  rests  our  confidence  in  the  be- 
ing of  a God  ? Why  should  we  infer  the  existence  of  a supreme 
power,  the  creator  and  sustainer  of  all  things,  if  the  idea  of  causa- 
tion contains  no  motion  of  power  whatever,  and  is  made  to  rest 
simply  on  the  faith  of  what  we  experience  through  the  medium 
of  sense  alone  ? The  objection,  accordingly,  which  is  thus  urged 
against  philosophical  investigation  may,  if  pushed  to  its  full  extent, 
become  fatal  to  the  groundwork  both  of  morality  and  religion ; at 
any  rate,  the  duty  lies  upon  the  objector  to  show  that  it  is  not  so ; 
and  in  order  to  show  that,  he  must  enter  into  the  metaphysical 
discussion  which  the  whole  question  involves.  We  might  adduce 
many  other  ideas,  such  as  those  of  space,  of  time,  of  substance,  of 
infinity,  as  well  as  some  of  the  primary  conceptions  of  mathemati- 
cal truth,  all  of  which  carry  with  them  the  same  appearance  of 
belonging  to  a class  of  notions  quite  beyond  the  region  of  mere 
phenomena’;  those,  however,  which  we  have  already  mentioned, 
may  be  sufficient  for  our  present  purpose. 

But,  lastly,  the  advocate  of  plain  “ common  sense,”  says  to  the 
philosopher.  You  are  no  better  off  than  we,  after  all ; for  you,  too, 
are  obliged  to  fall  back  upon  faith  in  the  end,  and  are  equally  un- 
able with  ourselves  to  give  demonstration  for  everything  that  you 
hold  true.  Assuredly,  is  the  reply.  Certain  ultimate  truths  there 
must  be  from  which  all  reasoning  takes  its  rise  ; but  the  question 
is,  which  are  ultimate  truths  and  which  are  not  ? We  all  try  to 
find  demonstration  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  do  so ; and  as  soon  as 
it  fails  us,  there  we  begin  to  assume  first  principles,  and  trust  to 
the  authority  of  some  primary  belief  But  the  great  point  to  be 


26 


INTRODUCTION. 


decided  is,  where  are  we  to  fix  the  proper  boundary  between  the 
two  ? Where  does  demonstration  really  terminate,  and  the  legiti- 
mate region  of  faith  begin  ? The  child  trusts  to  faith  for  almost 
everything.  As  the  reason  strengthens  and  becomes  more  active, 
our  childhood’s  belief  begins  to  give  way  to  knowledge  admitted 
on  its  proper  evidence  ; and  just  in  proportion  to  the  vigor  of  our 
understanding  may  we  move  backwards  the  landmark  between 
demonstration  and  faith,  and  include  in  the  former  what  before 
lay  in  the  province  of  the  latter.  The  metaphysician  understands 
the  demonstration  of  everything  that  the  man  of  mere  physical  in- 
vestigation holds  true,  but  he  wants  to  move  the  boundary  a little 
further  back,  to  see  whether  he  cannot  demonstrate  what  is  usually 
taken  for  granted ; and  if  he  cannot  demonstrate  it,  yet  he  will  at 
least  know  what  can  be  considered  as  proved,  and  what  must  be 
taken  simply  on  the  ground  of  its  being  a primary  belief.  Thou- 
sand to  one,  says  Lessing,  the  goal  of  your  philosophy  will  be  the 
spot  where  you  become  weary  of  thinking  any  further, — a remark 
which  should  caution  us  not  to  be  too  hasty  in  inderdicting  any 
branch  of  investigation  as  transcending  our  faculties,  and  not  to 
fix  the  boundaries  of  demonstrative  knowledge  without  very  suf- 
ficient grounds. 

II.  A second  objection  and  prejudice  against  all  philosophical 
investigation  is  taken  from  the  alleged  fact,  that  the  deepest  think- 
ers on  these  subjects  come  to  different,  yea,  even  to  diametrically 
opposite  conclusions, 

The  sure  and  steady  march  of  the  mathematical  sciences  is 
pointed  out  as  the  model  of  what  the  fruits  of  metaphysical  philos- 
ophy ought  to  be,  if  it  were  a genuine  branch  of  human  knowl- 
edge. The  fact,  therefore,  that  such  a steady  progression  is  not 
found,  but  that  contradictions  appear  to  be  ever  multiplied  as 
speculation  goes  on,  is  taken  as  an  argument  against  the  whole 
range  of  metaphysical  inquiry.*  ^ 

That  those  which  are  termed  the  accurate  sciences  offer  a pe- 
culiar facility  for  investigation,  and  are  removed  almost  entirely  be- 
yond the  reach  of  errors  and  contradictions,  arises  from  their  very 
nature ; such,  however,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  by  no  means 
the  case  with  any  other  of  the  acknowledgedly  genuine  branches 
of  human  knowledge.  In  politics,  for  example,  men  of  the  greatest 
sagacity  follow  completely  opposite  theories  as  to  what  is,  in  the 
main,  most  conducive  to  a nation’s  prosperity ; but  should  we 
* This  is  another  plea  frequently  urged  by  the  “ positive”  school. 


INTRODUCTIO^. 


27 

j therefore  interdict  the  whole  science  of  legislation  and  political 
I economy  as  being  without  any  ground  of  certainty,  and  utterly 
I fruitless  in  its  results  ? Is  it  not  clear,  on  the  contrary,  that  these ' 

1 differences  of  opinion  are  but  the  very  means  and  movements,  by 
which  the  science  as  a whole  progresses  ? Or,  to  take  another 
illustration  which  may  be  within  the  reach  of  every  one’s  personal 
experience,  are  there  not  many  different  forms  of  Christianity  built 
upon  the  common  data,  on  the  ground  of  which  we  all  alike  receive 
its  general  authenticity  ? Have  there  not  ever  been  contending 
parties  and  opposite  conclusions,  and  do  we  infer  from  thence  that  / 

the  whole  system  is  untrue,  and  that  no  certainty  can  possibly  be  - 
arrived  at,  amidst  the  clashing  opinions  to  which  even  the  greatest 
minds  are  exposed  ? Far  from  it.  Discussion  is  the  very  bulwark 
of  truth — the  only  safeguard  against  the  imperfection  of  the  human 
mind — the  only  chastiser  of  extravagance — the  only  antagonist  of 
dogmatism — the  only  handpost  that  points  us  perpetually  along  the 
path  of  moderation,  which  is  most  commonly  the  path  of  truth. 

The  little  mind  that  looks  upon  contending  sects  around  is  scan- 
dalized, and  says  with  Pilate  in  a jest,  “ What  is  truth  ?”  without 
ever  intending  to  listen  for  a reply ; but  the  more  expanded  intel- 
lect sees  in  these  same  the  strugglings  of  human  thought,  by  which 
it  will  gradually  yet  surely  unfold  the  whole  great  system  of  relig- 
ious truth  from  the  germs  that  lie  before  it  in  the  Word,  or  around 
it  in  the  world. 

The  same  principle  applies  to  the  case  of  speculative  philosophy. 

In  all  researches  so  recondite  in  their  nature,  and  so  wide  and  all- 
embracing  in  their  extent,  it  was  inevitable  that  one  mind  should 
follow  out  one  branch,  pushing  its  conclusions  in  that  direction  to 
. their  furthest  limit ; and  that  another  mind,  starting  from  a differ- 
ent point  of  view  and  going  to  the  same  extreme  on  the  opposite 
side,  should  evolve  conclusions  that  appear  to  be  altogether  con- 
tradictory. The  man,  therefore,  who  throws  himself  into  the 
stream  of  one  particular  system  of  opinions,  and  tninks  to  exhaust 
all  human  knowledge  by  that  means,  is  sure  in  the  end  to  suffer 
for  his  error  by  having  his  faith  shaken  in  the  results  of  all  philo- 
sophical research ; and  then  a shallow,  unthinking  “ common  sense” 
is  by  no  means  unwilling  to  take  the  alarm,  and  enstamp  all  phi- 
losophy as  a vain  and  useless  jangle  of  words,  to  which  it  is  very 
uncertain  whether  or  not  any  true  idea  can  be  attached.  The  more 
enlarged  mind,  however,  sees  that  in  each  particular  philosophical 
tendency  an  additional  step  is  taken  along  the  road  of  human 


)CJ- 


28 


INTRODUCTION. 


knowledge,  all  the  error  of  which  will,  in  time,  be  exploded  by 
some  opposite  school,  while  the  real  substantial  truth  will  remain 
Analysis  is  the  great  instrument  of  all  human  investigation  ; ana 
analysis,  to  be  scrutinizing  and  severe,  must  be  confined  to  one 
point  at  a time.  Select,  then,  your  point — single  it  out  from  the 
whole  superstructure  of  truth — bend  upon  it  the  whole  of  your 
analytical  force  ; and  then  what  is  the  inevitable  result  ? We 
answer — truth  and  error  combined.  Error  there  must  be  more  or 
less,  from  the  isolation  which  is  made  of  this  one  particular  point 
from  all  its  necessary  relations ; but  this  error  is  only  an  unavoid- 
able step  for  the  further  discovery  of  truth,  because  the  analysis 
of  every  individual  question  is  the  more  accurate  in  proportion  as 
the  whole  mind  is  absorbed  in  it  alone,  to  the  exclusion  of  every 
other.  Every  school  of  philosophy,  then,  may  be  regarded  as  the 
analysis  of  one  particular  branch  of  philosophical  truth ; and  it  only 
requires  a subsequent  synthesis  to  put  together  the  combined  result 
of  the  different  systems,  in  order  to  show  what  has  been  the  net 
increase  they  have  brought  to  the  whole  mass  of  human  knowledge. 
To  sober  and  earnest  minds  there  is  no  such  thing  as  positive  error. 
To  such  all  error  is  negative  ; it  is  a falling  short  of  the  fact  of  the 
case,  it  consists  in  isolation  and  incompleteness ; so  that  all  analy- 
sis may  be  said  to  result  in  positive  and  negative  conclusions,  in 
plus  and  minus  quantities ; and  synthesis  is  the  process  by  which 
the  whole  is  summed  up  and  the  final  amount  determined.* 

Now,  if  we  look  back  steadfastly  upon  the  past  history  of  philoso- 
phy, we  may  see  that  it  has  ever  had  a progressive  development, 
that  each  age  has  contributed  its  portion,  greater  or  less,  and  that 
the  agitation  between  the  different  schools  has  been,  as  it  were,  the 
pulsations  of  this  forward  movement.  Thales  and  Pythagoras 
combined  the  vague  theories  of  their  age  into  their  own  respective 
systems.  Without  the  former,  Democritus  and  the  Atomists  would 
have  been  impossible  ; and  without  the  latter,  Parmenides  and  Zeno 
had  never  embodied  in  regular  form  the  tenets  of  the  Eleatic  philos- 
ophy. The  struggles  of  these  two  schools  paved  the  way  for  Socra- 
tes, and  thus  rendered  both  Plato  and  Aristotle  possible.  Without 
the  former  of  these,  the  early  Christian  philosophy  would  not  have 
seen  the  light;  and  without  the  latter,  the  scholastic  philosophy 
could  not  possibly  have  arisen.  But  for  the  practical  fruitlessness 

* Every  finile  mind  is  necessarily  involved  in  negative  error  to  a certain  extent, 
from  the  very  fact  of  its  imperfection.  So,  likewise,  all  the  errors  of  honest  thinkers 
arise  from  a false  or  a depressed  stand-point ; they  are  errors  of  incompleteness  in  thinking^ 
not  the  blind  acceptance  of  a falsehood  on  traditionary  or  other  similar  grounds. 


INTRODUCTION. 


29 


of  the  scholastic  age,  again,  Des  Cartes  had  not  sought  to  recast 
the  whole  method  of  philosophical  investigation ; and  without  the 
results  of  the  old  organum  before  his  eyes.  Bacon  had  never  framed 
the  new.  Had  Des  Cartes,  moreover,  or  some  equivalent  mind, 
failed  tc  point  out  the  new  road,  Leibnitz  had  never  trodden  it, 
and  the  German  philosophy  were  still  but  a possibility ; and  had 
Bacon  never  shown  the  practical  power  of  induction,  Locke  had 
never  applied  it  to  the  study  of  the  mind,  or  Newton  by  its  means 
furnished  the  key  to  the  temple  of  the  universe.  As  the  course  of 
the  vessel  that  makes  its  way  against  the  breeze  consists  of  a series 
of  movements,  each  one  of  which  seems  to  bear  it  away  from  the 
true  direction,  yet  brings  it  in  fact  so  much  farther  on  its  destined 
course : so  the  mind  that  can  only  view  each  individual  tack  which 
the  philosophic  spirit  takes,  is  apt  to  imagine  that  every  such  move- 
ment carries  it  farther  from  the  true  mark,  whilst  those  who  can 
take  the  whole  course  in  at  one  compreh«nsive  view,  see  that  these 
apparent  deviations  are  all  necessary  to  bring  us  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  centre  of  eternal  truth. 

III.  These  reflections  lead  us  to  the  consideration  of  another 
objection  that  has  been  often  raised,  more  especially  against  the 
practical  utility  of  speculative  philosopl^% — namely,  that  even  sup- 
posing it  to  be  a real  and  genuine  branch  of  human  knowledge,  yet 
it  can  only  find  place  in  a very  few  minds,  and  must  ever  be  com- 
pletely unintelligible  to  the  mass.  This,  therefore,  is  presented  as 
an  insuperable  barrier  against  its  ever  becoming  of  any  extensive 
advantage,  or  indeed  of  its  having  any  kind  of  influence  upon  man- 
kind at  large.*  Such  an  objection,  we  reply,  if  insisted  on,  would 
prove  fatal  to  the  cause  of  almost  every  branch  of  human  science. 
It  is  never  expected,  and  indeed  it  is  not  possible,  that  the  mass  of 
mankind  should  be  acquainted  with  the  process  by  which  any  kind 
of  investigation  whatever  is  carried  on.  The  search  after  truth, 
even  the  truths  of  the  phenomenal  world,  is  a process  to  them  com- 
pletely enveloped  in  darkness ; all  they  have  to  do  is  to  reap  the 
practical  fruits  of  any  discovery,  when  it  is  made,  without  casting 
one  single  thought  upon  the  steps  by  which  others  have  arrived  at 
it.  If  we  look  for  a moment  at  the  law  by  which  thought  is  prop- 
agated, we  find  that  it  always  descends  from  the  highest  order  of 
thinkers  to  those  who  are  one  degree  below  them ; from  these  again 
it  descends  another  degree,  losing  at  each  step  of  the  descent  some- 
thing more  of  the  scientific  form,  until  it  reaches  the  mass  in  the 
* This  is  the  ordinary  plea  of  sensational  utilitarianism. 


30 


mTRODUCTION. 


shape  of  some  admitted  fact,  of  which  they  feel  there  is  not  a 
shadow  of  doubt,  a fact  which  rests  on  the  authority  of  what  all 
the  world  above  them  says,  and  which,  therefore,  they  receive  to- 
tally regardless  of  the  method  of  its  elimination.  Take,  for  exam- 
ple, any  great  fact  or  law  of  nature  ascertained  by  means  of  physi- 
cal science.  Such  a fact  is  first  of  all,  perchance,  wrung  from  the 
most  close  and  laborious  mathematical  analysis ; a few,  perhaps 
may  take  the  trouble  to  follow  every  step  of  this  process  ; but  the 
mass  even  of  natural  philosophers  themselves  are  content  to  see 
what  is  the  method  of  investigation,  to  copy  the  formulas  in  which 
it  results,  and  then  put  it  down  as  so  much  further  accession  to 
their  physical  science.  The  mass  of  intelligent,  educated  minds, 
again,  with  a general  idea  only  of  mathematical  analysis,  accept 
the  fact  or  law  we  are  now  supposing,  as  one  of  the  many  beauti- 
ful results  of  investigations,  which  they  acknowledge  to  be  far  be- 
yond the  reach  of  their  own  powers ; — and  from  them,  lastly,  it 
descends  to  the  rest  of  the  community  as  a hare  fact,  which  they 
appropriate  to  their  own  use,  simply  as  being  a universally  acknowl- 
edged truth.  The  first  school-boy  you  meet  would  very  likely  tell 
you  with  some  accuracy  what  is  the  rapidity  of  light ; but  as  to 
any  observations  on  the  ^ccultations  of  Jupiter’s  satellites,  or  on 
the  phenomena  of  aberration,  or  any  other  such  method  of  comput- 
ing it,  on  these  he  has  never  bestowed  a thought.  The  commonest 
seaman  that  has  learned  the  use  of  his  sextant,  applies  to  his  own 
purposes  all  the  necessary  formulas  of  trigonometry ; but  as  to  the 
methods  of  investigating  such  formulas,  such  matters  lie  entirely 
out  of  his  reach. 

This  law  of  the  descent  of  thought,  however, — this  gravitation 
of  ascertained  truth  from  the  higher  order  of  minds  to  the  lower, 
is  not  confined  to  the  mathematical  sciences,  nor  is  it  here  alone 
that  the  results  of  investigation  are  transmitted  by  what  may  be 
termed /orwiM/as.  There  are  such  things  as  historical  formulas,  as 
formulas  for  the  various  theories  of  the  fine  arts,  and  so  also  are 
there  philosophical  or  metaphysical  formulas.  The  results  of  long 
and  patient  reflection,  in  this  last  case  particularly,  embody  them- 
selves in  some  general  principle ; and  this  principle,  after  it  has 
been  tested,  gradually  spreads  itself  downwards  from  mind  to 
mind,  until  thousands  act  upon  it  every  day  of  their  life,  to  whom 
all  philosophical  thinking  is  completely  foreign.  When,  therefore, 
the  objection  is  raised,  that  metaphysical  inquiries  lie  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  mass,  and  cannot  practically  subserve  the  general  in- 


INTRODUCTION. 


31 


terests  of  mankind,  it  is  entirely  forgotten  or  overlooked,  that  the 
results  of  such  inquiries  are  intelligible  to  all ; nay,  that  they  are 
amongst  the  most  practically  efficient  and  influential  of  all  truths, 
which  can  possibly  exist  in  the  mind  of  man.  This  assertion  is 
fully  borne  out  by  much  that  we  meet  with  in  the  intellectual  his- 
tory of  the  past.  How  few  could  there  have  been  amongst  the 
multitude  of  mankind  who,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  ever  read  a page 
of  Aristotle  ! And  did  Aristotle,  therefore,  exercise  but  little  in- 
fluence upon  them  ? Far  from  it.  The  minds  of  those  who  did 
think  deeply,  were  completely  moulded  by  his  philosophy ; these, 
again,  governed  the  reflections  of  those  immediately  beneath  them ; 
and  from  them  the  results  of  Aristotelianism,  mingling  up  as  they 
did  especially  with  the  religious  opinions  of  the  day,  reached  the 
whole  of  the  popular  intellect.  Look  again  at  the  sensualistic 
philosophy  of  France  during  the  last  century.  The  people  at  large, 
it  is  true,  neither  read  Locke,  from  whose  writings  that  philosophy 
professedly,  though  not  justly  emanated,  neither  did  they  study  the 
new  edition  of  his  principles  as  published  and  distorted  by  Con- 
dillac, nor  did  they  understand  the  process  by  which  Cabanis  and 
others  developed  the  system  to  its  farthest  consequences.  But 
they  had  no  difficulty  in  laying  hold  of  what  we  may  term  the 
formulas  of  that  philosophy — formulas  which  came  before  them  in 
very  intelligible  propositions,  declarative  of  complete  materialism, 
together  with  an  implied  denial  both  of  the  doctrine  of  man’s  im- 
mortality, and  the  existence  of  a God.  We  are  strongly  inclined, 
indeed,  to  think,  that  the  results  of  intellectual  philosophy,  really 
speaking,  influence  the  mass  of  mankind  practically  more  than 
those  of  any  other  department  of  knowledge  whatever ; inasmuch 
as  they  bear  most  closely  upon  the  very  principles  of  all  human 
action,  elevate  or  depress  the  general  feeling  as  to  the  worth  and 
sanctity  of  virtue,  and  give  a coloring  to  the  popular  religionism 
of  the  age.  All  this  assuredly  should  remind  us,  that  these  results 
ought  neither  to  be  looked  upon  with  indifference  nor  contempt, 
nor  to  be  framed  but  upon  the  most  patient  and  extended  investi- 
gation. 

IV.  There  is  one  more  objection  against  intellectual  philosophy 
in  its  widest  extent,  which  requires  some  little  consideration,  namely, 
That  it  is  entirely  superseded  and  rendered  unnecessary  by  revela- 
tion. Revelation,  it  is  urged,  is  an  authoritative  view  of  human 
nature  and  of  human  destiny,  and  was  given  to  perfect  the  other- 
wise imperfect  knowledge  we  had  of  our  position  and  prospects  in 


32 


INTRODUCTION. 


the  universe ; so  that,  to  philosophize  on  these  things,  is  no  other 
than  to  go  back  to  the  state  in  which  mankind  existed  before  they 
had  access  to  this  clearer  and  better  light  from  heaven.  Now, 
first  of  all,  this  conclusion  can  only  have  its  full  weight  on  the 
supposition,  that  the  objects  of  revelation  and  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy are  all  identical ; or,  at  any  rate,  that  there  is  no  point 
touched  upon  in  the  latter,  which  is  not  sufficiently  elucidated  in 
the  former.  This,  how'ever,  we  can  by  no  means  admit  to  be  the 
case.  That  revelation  has  thrown  a vast  light  upon  the  great 
problem  of  the  world  and  of  human  destiny,  we  allow ; but  that 
it  was  ever  intended  to  give  us  there  a complete  system  of  philoso- 
phy, to  erect  an  entire  superstructure  of  human  knowledge,  and 
leave  no  problem  to  be  solved  in  the  whole  region  of  mental, 
moral,  or  what  we  may  more  strictly  call  metaphysical  investiga- 
tion, we  are  far  from  being  prepared  to  grant. 

To  instance,  first,  the  peculiar  department  of  psychology — who, 
it  is  asked,  expects  to  find  a complete  analysis  of  our  mental  facul- 
ties and  susceptibilities  in  the  Bible?  We  find,  it  is  true,  that  the 
working  of  our  mental  powers  and  faculties  is  described  here  and 
there  in  the  pages  of  revelation,  so  far  at  least  as  they  have  a direct 
bearing  upon  the  religious  feelings ; it  is  true,  also,  that  we  see, 
pointed  out  for  practical  use  or  caution,  the  passions  and  desires 
which  are  most  likely  to  become  dangerous  or  excessive  ; in  ad- 
dition to  this,  some  few  conclusions,  perhaps,  might  be  drawn  from 
the  distinction,  that  is  there  made,  between  the  soul  and  the  spirit 
— the  animal  man  and  the  spiritual  man.  These,  however,  are 
far  from  being  placed  before  us  in  a scientific  form,  neither  are 
they,  by  any  means,  intended  to  furnish  a lull  account  of  our  men- 
tal constitution.  They  are  given  simply  for  practical  use,  and  ac- 
cordingly leave  open  a large  field  of  scientific  investigation,  from 
which  many  valuable  results  may  be  drawn  by  any  mind  that  can 
apply  to  it  acute  powers  of  analysis  and  research.  Or  to  adduce 
still  further  the  department  of  morals.  That  a practical  morality 
of  the  most  elevated  character  runs  through  the  whole  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  peculiarly  through  those  of  the  New  Testament, 
no  one  can  fail  to  admit ; but,  as  these  writings  were  intended  for 
popular  use,  to  come  down  to  the  habits  of  thinking  common  in 
all  ages  amongst  the  mass  of  mankind,  we  could  not  naturally  ex- 
pect to  find  there  the  speculative  questions  of  morals  either  mooted 
or  solved.  As  far  as  our  practical  necessities  go,  the  morals  of  the 
Scriptures  are  absolutely  perfect,  and  furnish  an  ideal  of  what  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


33 


purity  of  our  nature  ought  to  he,  which  can  be  derived  from  no 
other  source  whatever ; but  it  was  never  intended,  that  all  efforts 
of  man’s  intellect  on  these  points  should  be  completely  contra- 
vened, and  repressed  as  by  a voice  from  heaven,  telling  us  that 
they  could  no  longer  be  of  any  service,  or  answer  any  useful  end. 
The  speculative  questions  in  morals,  which  are  left  untouched  in 
the  Scriptures,  are  amongst  the  most  interesting  and  important  to 
which  the  human  mind  can  be  directed.  The  inquiry,  for  exam- 
ple, “in  what  conscience  essentially  consists,”  whether  it  be  a 
moral  sense  implanted  in  us — or  whether  it  be  a moral  judgment — 
or  whether  it  be  the  result  of  our  natural  sympathies — or  whether 
it  be  the  cementing  of  all  our  feelings  and  faculties  together  into 
one  great  regulating  principle,  gives  rise  to  an  investigation,  which 
leads  us  to  examine  the  very  groundwork  of  our  moral  constitu- 
tion. The  inquiry,  again,  as  to  what  virtue  is,  objectively  con- 
sidered— whether  it  arise  from  the  eternal  fitnesses  of  things,  or 
from  utility,  or  from  benevolence,  or  whether  its  ground  is  to  be 
found  only  in  the  will  of  God — presents  to  us  another  point  where 
there  is  scope  for  the  most  acute  and  valuable  philosophical  re- 
search. And  if  it  be  asked,  why  we  should  take  the  pains  to  search 
into  these  speculative  questions  of  morality  when  the  practical 
side  is  given  us  in  perfection  in  the  Scriptures ; we  answer,  that 
the  intellect  of  man  ever  struggles  after  satisfaction,  as  well  as  his 
moral  and  religious  nature  ; and  that,  while  the  latter  can  be  com- 
pletely supplied  from  the  Scriptures,  the  former  must  seek  the 
ground  of  its  satisfaction,  and  combine  its  materials  into  a com- 
plete superstructure  of  knowledge,  by  means  of  unwearied  and 
laborious  thinking.  On  these  points,  and  on  many  others,  such  as 
those  respecting  human  liberty  and  necessity,  respecting  the  doc- 
trine of  providence  in  connection  with  the  subsistence  of  the  ma- 
terial world,  respecting  our  physical  conditions  here,  as  influencing 
the  mind,  and  respecting  the  “ physical  theories  of  another  life 
there  is  room  for  many  investigations,  which  are  hardly  mentioned, 
not  to  say  exhausted,  in  the  pages  of  revelation. 

But  we  go  a step  further  in  answer  to  the  objection,  that  revela- 
tion renders  philosophical  thinking  unnecessary,  and  affirm,  that 
the  authority  of  revelation  itself  must  to  a considerable  extent  rest 
upon  it.  All  religion  reposes  upon  the  idea  of  God  as  its  founda- 
tion. Without  this  idea,  revelation  itself  has  no  weight,  inasmuch 
as  its  authority  is  solely  derivable  from  the  fact  of  its  coming /rom 
God.  The  being  of  a God,  therefore,  is  a truth  that  must  to  a cer- 

3 


34 


INTRODUCTION. 


tain  degree  be  impressed  upon  us  before  we  open  the  very  first 
page  of  inspiration ; nay,  its  very  first  proposition  would  be  unin- 
telligible without  it.  In  the  beginning,  says  Moses,  God  created 
the  heavens  and  the  earth.  But  who'  is  God  ? and  where  is  the 
evidence  of  His  existence  ? All  these  must  be  settled  points  be- 
fore the  Scriptures  can  be  to  us  of  the  slightest  authority,  and  they 
cannot  be  settled,  when  once  started,  without  deep  inward  reflec- 
tion upon  nature,  and  upon  man  as  its  interpreter. 

But,  perhaps,  we  shall  be  reminded  that  the  Scriptures  carry 
with  them  their  own  evidence  of  the  divine  existence,  the  evidence, 
namely,  of  miracles  openly  performed,  and  well  authenticated. 
True, — to  a certain  extent  they  do,  but  to  an  extent  which  can  by 
no  means  dispense  with  the  other  evidence  we  have  mentioned. 
For,  first  of  all,  the  argument  from  miracle,  to  whatsoever  extent 
it  may  be  valid,  must  be  interpreted  and  enforced  by  the  light  of 
our  reason — and  secondly,  its  validity,  as  far  as  it  bears  upon  the 
divine  existence,  can,  even  then,  only  be  of  a very  secondary  char- 
acter ; for  what  mind  is  there  that  would  be  convinced  of  the  being 
of  a God  from  the  witnessing  of  some  temporary  change  in  the 
laws  of  nature,  when  it  had  totally  failed  of  gaining  such  convic- 
tion from  the  perpetual  and  standing  wonder  of  creation  itself? 
Assuredly,  if  nature,  in  her  most  beauteous  forms  and  most  strik- 
ing operations,  were  insufficient  to  lead  our  minds  to  the  concep- 
tion of  an  efficient  Creator,  none  of  [what  would  then  be]  her 
freaks  and  wanderings  would  do  so.  Nay,  when  we  speak  of  the 
evidence  of  miracles  as  testifying  of  the  hand  of  God,  that  evidence, 
if  I mistake  not,  derives  all  its  strength  from  the  previous  confi- 
dence we  have  in  the  existence  of  an  Almighty  power,  the  framer 
of  the  laws  of  nature,  as  we  see  them  usually  in  operation,  and 
which  laws,  we  argue,  could  not  be  changed  by  any  power  less 
than  that,  which  first  called  ffiem  into  being.  If  chance,  or  fate, 
or  any  other  blind  impulse,  could  create  the  world,  and  fix  its  laws, 
it  has  likewise  power  to  alter  them ; and  if,  therefore,  our  reflec- 
tion upon  the  constitution  of  things  around  us  as  they  are,  and  the 
application  to  them  of  the  great  law  of  causation,  is  not  sufficient 
to  lead  us  to  the  conviction  of  an  intelligent  cause,  from  which 
they  sprang,  neither  would  a perpetual  series  of  miracles  be  able  to 
do  so.  Miracles,  indeed,  were  never  intended  to  convince  any  one 
of  the  existence  of  God,  and  it  is  nought  but  a misapplication  of 
them  to  use  them  for  this  purpose ; they  were  merely  intended  to 
convince  us  that  this  Being  (of  whose  existence  we  have  previous 


INTRODUCTION. 


35 


and  higher  evidence)  operates  in  some  particular  manner,  or  through 
some  particular  medium.*'  All  revealed  religion,  accordingly,  rests 
upoji  the  pedestal  of  natural  religion ; all  natural  religion,  again, 
rests  upon  the  existence  of  a God ; and  the  certainty  of  his  exist- 
ence must  be  derived  from  the  relation  of  the  laws  of  nature  to 
those  of  the  human  mind.  If  these  laws  be  not  established,  natural 
religion  fails  of  a foundation ; and  if  the  foundation  of  natural  re- 
ligion sinks,  the  whole  authority  of  revealed  religion  sinks  with  it 
to  a nonentity.  Revelation,  therefore,  so  far  from  putting  a check 
upon  philosophical  investigation  in  reference  to  these  topics,  ren- 
ders it,  in  fact,  only  so  much  the  more  necessary,  and  so  much  the 
more  valuable  in  proportion  as  the  superstructure,  which  by  the 
aid  of  revelation  we  build  upon  it,  becomes  to  us  of  the  deeper  im- 
portance.f 

One  more  thought  we  throw  out  upon  this  objection — namely, 
that  philosophy,  by  investigating  upon  natural  grounds  the  state 
and  tendency  of  human  nature,  often  renders  a very  essential  ser- 
vice to  the  evidences  of  revelation.  Revelation  brings  to  us  a vast 
number  of  facts,  which  it  commends  to  our  reception  on  the  ground 
of  testimony  and  authority.  Now,  it  is  clear,  that  if  any  of  these 
facts,  which  come  to  us  primarily  upon  testimony  and  authority, 
can  be  verified  by  philosophy,  they  will  carry  with  them  a double 
evidence,  and  come  home  to  us  with  a double  weight.  Men,  who 
have  thought  most  deeply  upon  the  evidences  of  revelation,  have 
ever  felt  how  valuable  was  the  accession  of  strength  they  attained, 
wherever  scientific  investigation  could  be  made  to  bear  upon  them. 
How  many,  for  example,  have  attempted  (we  say  not  how  success- 
fully) to  elicit  a verification  of  the  Mosaic  deluge  and  cosmogony, 
from  the  discoveries  of  geology  in  how  many  instances  have  we 
been  called  upon  to  hail  some  fresh  light,  which  physiology  has 
succeeded  in  throwing  upon  the  scriptural  account  of  the  origin 
of  the  human  family ; and  on  the  same  principle,  what  believer  in 
revelation  does  not  rejoice  to  see  the  scriptural  representations  of 
man’s  mental  and  spiritual  condition  borne  out  by  close  and  accu- 
rate research  into  the  nature  and  tendencies  of  the  human  mind  ? 

* since  these  sentiments  were  first  written,  I have  been  happy  to  see  them  further 
enforced  and  illustrated  in  an  eloquent  article  on  Pascal,  in  the  “ Christian  Remem- 
brancer,” (.Ian.  1847.) 

t See  Appendix,  Note  A. 

i See  Sharon  Turner’s  “ Sacred  History  of  the  Earth,”  and  compare  the  far  more 
scientific  view  of  the  question  between  Scripture  and  Geology  given  in  Dr.  Pye 
Smith’s  Lectures  ” On  the  Relation  between  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  some  parts  of 
Geological  Science.”  Co.mpare  also  Dr.  Buckland’s  “ Reliquiae  Diluvianae  ” with  Iub 
Bridgewater  Treatise. 


36 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  greater  be  the  number  of  the  facts  of  revelation,  which  we 
can  show  to  rest  upon  the  basis  of  science  as  well  as  authority,  the 
better  is  it  for  us,  both  as  it  regards  the  strength  of  their  evidence, 
and  the  character  of  their  influence.  Philosophy,  by  carrying  cer- 
tainty with  it  to  a given  length,  and  pointing  out  real  difficulties 
where  that  certainty  ends,  is  ever  mild  in  its  features  and  tolerant 
in  its  tone ; on  the  other  hand,  the  more  implicitly  we  bow  to 
authority,  the  less  tolerant  we  become  to  those  who  choose  not  to 
bow  as  obediently  as  ourselves.  The  mind  always  seizes  with  a ■ 
kind  of  convulsive  grasp  those  truths,  for  which  it  can  give  no  very  , 
satisfactory  account,  as  though  the  tenacity  with  which  they  are  | 
held  would  go  to  make  up  the  deficiency  in  their  evidence ; and  j 
on  this  ground  it  is  that  those  who  are  most  ignorant,  to  prevent  | 
the  appearance  of  absurdity,  commonly  find  it  necessary  to  be  most  ; 
dogmatical.  On  the  other  hand,  an  abundance  of  knowledge  and  ' 
a strength  of  evidence,  as  they  define  more  clearly  the  bounds  of 
the  known  and  the  unknown,  tend  perpetually  towards  toleration ; 
a fact,  which  should  make  every  ray  of  fresh  light  that  is  cast  from 
any  quarter  upon  religious  truth,  of  additional  value  to  us.  There 
are  many  facts,  moreover,  brought  before  our  attention  by  revela- 
tion, which,  if  they  cannot  be  reduced  to  a philosophical  form,  and 
be  shown  to  rest  upon  a scientific  basis,  are  yet  rendered  antece- 
dently probable  by  the  analogy  they  may  be  seen  to  bear  to  the  as- 
certained laws  of  nature,  or  of  our  own  constitution.  The  analogies 
of  the  natural  world,  for  example,  in  many  respects  point  us  to  the 
fact  of  the  soul’s  immortality ; and  still  more  strikingly  do  the  ele- 
ments of  our  own  moral  constitution  point  us  to  a perfect  moral 
government,  where  the  idea  of  human  accountability  shall  find  its 
ultimate  completion.  lit  all  such  cases  as  these,  (which  the  reader 
may  see  admirably  handled  in  the  immortal  work  of  Bishop  Butler,) 
intellectual  philosophy  appears  as  the  handmaid  of  revelation,  not 
only  aiding  in  making  firm  the  foundation  on  which  it  rests,  but  by 
its  results  illustrating  and  confirming  many  of  the  most  important 
truths  which  come  to  us  on  the  authority  of  a divine  inspiration. 

Sect.  III. — Rise  of  Philosophy  inevilahle. 

Thus  far  we  have  attempted  to  remove  the  chief  objections 
which  lead  many  to  consider  the  speculative  philosophy,  whether 
of  a former  age  or  of  their  own,  as  altogether  valueless.  Not  only 


INTRODUCTION. 


37 


do  we  think,  however,  that  these  popular  prejudices  are  groundless, 
but  we  go  a step  further,  and  regard  speculative  philosophy  as  a 
thing  absolutely  inevitable — as  inevitable  as  the  wants,  desires,  and 
tendencies  of  the  human  mind  can  make  it.  If,  from  the  fact  of 
its  universality,  we  may  consider  any  branch  of  our  mental  activity 
whatever  to  be  a necessary  result  of  our  constitution,  assuredly  we 
may  do  so  with  regard  to  the  philosophic  spirit.  Every  age  of  the 
world,  and  every  nation,  the  mind  of  which  has  attained  to  any 
degree  of  cultivation,  have  had  their  different  philosophies ; that 
is,  have  attempted  to  unravel  the  problems  of  their  own  existence, 
and  those  of  the  universe  they  behold  around  them.  The  grave 
and  contemplative  Asiatic  silently  brooded  over  these  subjects  in 
the  earlier  stages  of  man’s  history ; the  lively  and  versatile  mind 
of  Greece  could  not  fail  to  think  deeply,  and  to  grapple  earnestly 
with  the  same  great  questions ; the  Roman  intellect,  at  first  taken 
up  with  the  practical  toils  of  warfare  and  government,  was  con- 
strained, so  soon  as  the  opportunity  came,  to  tread  in  the  same 
path,  notwithstanding  it  had  been  already  so  diligently  explored ; 
and  Christianity,  when  it  offered  peace  to  the  spirit  of  man  wounded 
by  the  consciousness  of  moral  imperfection,  and  satisfied  the  heart’s 
longing  after  immortality,  did  not  repress,  but  rather  incited  the 
intellect  to  greater  exertion  in  order  to  sound  the  depths  of  our 
being,  and  fully  to  comprehend  our  relation  to  the  Infinite  and  the 
Eternal.  The  Middle  Ages,  which  witnessed  the  almost  total  de- 
cline of  literature,  present  us  still  with  the  spectacle  of  the  human 
reason  struggling  on  amidst  all  the  surrounding  darkness,  in  order 
to  look  beneath  the  phenomenal  world,  and  to  seek  after  the  foun- 
dations of  human  knowledge  ; and  ever  since  the  revival  of  our 
modern  civilization  has  given  a fresh  impulse  to  the  human  mind, 
the  whole  region  of  speculative  philosophy  has  been  one  of  the 
principal  objects,  upon  which  it  has  applied  its  awakened  energies. 
It  is  no  more  possible  for  the  spirit  of  philosophy  to  become  extin- 
guished, than  for  the  poetic  fire  to  die  out  of  humanity,  or  the  re- 
ligious faculty  to  cease  to  operate  within  the  mind  of  man ; for  as 
long  as  the  impulse  of  the  intellectual  faculties  exists,  it  will  be  ever 
seeking  after  satisfaction. 

That  philosophy,  then,  will  ever  flourish  among  mankind  in  every 
age,  we  may  regard  as  a fair  inference  from  past  experience ; but 
now  we  may  go  a step  beyond  experience,  and  show  that  its  rise 
is  rendered  inevitable  by  the  very  nature  of  human  knowledge,  and 
the  impulse  we  possess  for  acquiring  it.  To  prove  this  we  must 


38 


INTRODUCTION'. 


establish  two  facts: — First,  That  the  power  of  accurate  general- 
ization is  the  true  index,  hy  which  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  is 
measured;  and  Secondly,  That  every  branch  of  human  knowledge, 
if  generalized  to  its  full  extent,  brings  us  into  the  region  of  meta 
physical  research. 

To  establish  the  former  of  these  two  principles,  we  must  remem- 
ber, that  human  knowledge  does  not  consist  in  the  bare  collection 
and  enumeration  of  facts ; this  alone  would  be  of  little  service  did 
we  not  attempt  to  classify  them,  and  to  educe  from  such  classifica 
tion  general  laws  and  principles.  The  knowledge,  which  consists 
in  individual  truths,  could  never  be  either  extensive  or  definite, — 
for  the  multiplicity  of  objects,  which  must  then  crowd  in  upon  the 
mind,  only  tends  to  confound  and  perplex  it,  while  the  memory, 
overburdened  with  particulars,  is  not  able  to  retain  a hundredth 
part  of  the  materials  which  are  collected.  To  prevent  this,  the 
power  of  generalization  comes  to  our  aid,  by  which  the  individual 
facts  are  so  classified  under  their  proper  conceptions,  that  they 
may  at  the  same  time  be  more  easily  retained,  and  their  several 
relations  to  all  other  branches  of  knowledge  accurately  defined. 
The  colligation  and  classification  of  facts,  then,  we  may  regard  as 
the  two  first  steps  which  are  to  be  taken  in  the  attainment  of 
scientific  Truth. 

The  next  step  after  this  is  to  inquire,  how  these  facts  may  be 
accounted  for ; in  other  words,  to  consider,  what  more  general  fact 
can  be  discovered,  in  which  the  particular  ones  shall  be  contained. 
In  natural  science  we  hear  frequent  mention  made  of  ascending 
from  particular  to  general  truths, — of  different  stages  of  generali- 
zation which  occur  in  this  process, — and  of  the  highest  step  to 
which  all  the  others  are  preparatory,  and  in  which  they  are  includ- 
ed.* To  illustrate  the  meaning  of  these  expressions,  let  us  take 
the  case  of  Astronomy.  Any  careless  observer  can  perceive  the 
ordinary  facts  upon  which  that  science  is  founded.  The  laborer 
at  his  daily  toil  knows  that  the  moon,  the  sun,  and  the  planets,  rise 
and  set  at  particular  periods.  The  slightest  attention  again,  would 
be  sufficient  to  tell  us,  that  the  moon  goes  through  a certain  course 
of  changes  within  a month,  and  the  sun  within  a year.  All  these 
facts,  howevei',  are  included  in,  and  explained  by  the  more  general 
fact,  that  the  earth  moves  in  an  orbit  round  the  sun,  and  the  moon 
round  the  earth.  This  fact,  again,  is  included  in  the  dynamical 

• See  WhewelTs  “ Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences.”  Book  xi.  chap.  vi.  p.  239, 
et  seq. 


INTRODUCTION. 


39 


law,  by  which  the  movements  of  all  the  heavenly  bodies  are  regu- 
lated, and  this  again  in  the  universal  law  of  gravitation.  The  dif- 
ference, therefore,  between  the  knowledge  which  a careless  specta- 
tor possesses  of  any  one  of  the  simple  facts  of  Astronomy  and  that 
possessed  by  the  man  of  science,  lies  here — that  the  one  observes 
the  phenomenon  simply  as  a phenomenon,  while  the  other  investi- 
gates it,  places  it  in  connection  with  other  facts,  ascends  from  the 
particular  to  the  general,  and  gets  so  much  nearer  to  the  universal 
law  or  principle  from  which  it  proceeds.  The  man  who  only  ob- 
serves the  simple  phenomena,  we  say,  possesses  the  least  knowl- 
edge ; he  who  ascends  to  the  more  general  propositions  enlarges 
his  knowledge  proportionably ; and  lastly,  his  knowledge  is  the 
greatest  who  attains  the  highest  point  of  generalization  and  educes 
the  fact  which  includes  in  it  all  the  rest.  If  we  were  to  adduce 
any  other  branch  of  human  knowledge,  we  should  find  that  the 
same  principle  would  hold  good,  that  the  ignorant  observer  might 
know  as  much  of  the  bare  facts  as  any  one  else,  and  that  the  phi- 
losopher in  every  case  owes  his  superiority  to  the  process  of  gener- 
alization. In*  asserting  this  principle,  of  course  we  suppose  that  the 
generalization  is  not  hasty  and  inaccurate,  since  in  that  case  it 
could  only  give  rise  to  false  theories ; we  take  for  granted,  that  it 
is  an  inference  drawn  from  a sufficiently  wide  and  accurate  anal- 
ysis. When  this  is  the  case,  it  becomes  evident  that  accurate 
generalization,  implying,  as  it  does,  both  the  most  complete  obser- 
vation of  the  individual  phenomena,  and  a reference  of  them  to 
their  proper  conceptions  and  laws,  is  always  the  index  of  our  real 
knowledge ; and  just  as  far  as  we  can  legitimately  extend  it,  so  far 
may  our  knowledge  be  said  to  reach. 

Viewing  this  first  principle,  then,  as  valid,  we  shall  go  on  to  illus- 
trate, and  substantiate  the  second,  namely,  that  every  branch  of 
human  knowledge,  if  generalized  to  its  full  extent,  brings  us  into 
the  region  of  metaphysical  research ; that  there  is  no  subject  of  in- 
vestigation but  tends  incessantly  to  this  point ; that  even  those 
subjects  which  are  most  unlike  in  themselves,  and  which  lead  us 
through  entirely  different  fields  of  mental  labor,  yet  all,  if  you  trace 
them  far  enough,  meet  together  in  their  first  principles,  and  all  enter 
the  peculiar  region  of  the  metaphysician  before  you  have  reached 
their  ultimate  basis. 

To  illustrate  this  truth,  almost  any  subject  will  answer  equally 
well.  The  chemist,  for  example,  investigates  matter,  tracing  it  by 
means  of  observation  and  experiment  through  all  its  different  com- 


40 


INTRODUCTION. 


binations  and  changes.  But  who  does  not  know,  that  the  last 
question  at  which  he  arrives,  that  which  weighs  the  relative  claims 
of  ultimate  atoms  and  of  infinite  divisibility,  is  one  of  a purely 
metaphysical  nature  ? The  mechanician  studies  the  laws  of  forces 
as  exhibited  in  the  material  universe,  but  the  explication  of  the 
very  conception,  upon  which  the  whole  science  rests,  that  of  power 
or  causation,  again  brings  us  into  the  province  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy. • The  fundamental  axioms  and  definitions  of  pure  mathe- 
matics are  just  of  the  same  nature ; they,  too,  can  only  be  investi- 
gated and  explained  upon  metaphysical  grounds.  If  from  these 
branches  of  science  we  turn  to  that  allotted  to  the  physiologist,  we 
find  ourselves  in  another  region  of  thought,  at  the  basis  of  which 
lies  the  mysterious  idea  of  life  ; — an  idea  which  is  closely  connected 
with  some  of  the  most  interesting  problems  in  the  whole  range  of 
speculative  philosophy. 

It  is  not  only  those  subjects,  however,  which  come  under  the 
notion  of  science,  that  lead  us  up  through  the  several  stages  of 
generalization  to  the  ethereal  regions  of  metaphysical  speculation ; 
every  branch  of  human  knowledge,  if  investigated  to  a similar  ex- 
tent, leads  exactly  to  the  same  point.  Take,  for  example,  the  prov- 
ince of  the  historian,  a province  which  appears  at  first  sight  to  con- 
fine itself  entirely  to  an  investigation  and  a description  of  extei'nal 
facts.  The  primary  object  of  the  historian,  it  is  true,  may  be  con- 
sidered simply  this ; to  discover  events  as  they  occurred,  and  to 
describe  them  in  the  best  possible  manner ; but  the  true  philosophi- 
cal historian  is  far  from  being  content  with  this.  He  looks  upon 
the  phenomena  of  human  life  and  activity  as  the  direct  result  of 
human  nature,  as  it  exists  in  the  world,  and  seeks  to  trace  them  to 
their  proper  source  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind.  The 
subject  of  government,  as  it  has  appeared  in  the  difierent  states 
and  countries  of  our  earth,  lead.5  us  directly  to  the  deeper  question 
concerning  the  foundation  of  man’s  natural  rights ; for  all  govern- 
ment is  constructed  upon  the  primary  conception  of  right  or  jus- 
tice, and  must  be  adjudged  as  fundamentally  good  or  bad  according 
to  its  agreement  or  disagreement  with  it.  If  we  search  again  into 
the  history  of  civilization  and  learning,  or  of  the  arts  and  sciences, 
as  they  have  sprung  up  and  made  greater  or  lesser  advancement 
amongst  different  nations,  here,  too,  we  are  insensibly  led  to  the 
study  of  the  human  mind.  All  civilization  is  an  effect  which  must 
spring  from  certain  causes,  and  the  object  of  the  philosophical  his- 
torian in  tracing  it,  is  to  point  out  the  influence,  which  various  forms 


INTRODUCTION. 


41 


of  government,  various  features  of  natural  scenery,  various  modes 
of  religion,  and  various  circumstances  in  general,  have  had  in 
stimulating  man  to  exertion  in  different  directions,  and  towards 
different  objects.  History  is,  in  fact,  a detail  of  the  various  mani- 
festations of  mind,  as  they  have  been  impressed  upon  the  surface 
of  human  life ; and  the  philosophical  historian  will  attempt  to  de- 
duce from  the  past,  those  laws  of  human  action,  which  have  here- 
tofore moulded  the  features  of  society,  and  which,  we  may  predict, 
will  under  similar  circumstances,  operate  in  a similar  manner  for 
the  future.  This  whole  branch  of  human  knowledge,  therefore, 
leads  us  inevitably  to  the  study  of  man,  to  the  investigation  of  the 
primary  laws  of  the  human  mind,  and  only  when  it  has  pursued  its 
inquiries  to  that  point  does  it  attain  a high  degree  of  generaliza- 
tion, and  give  us  a full  satisfaction  in  its  results.* 

To  adduce  another  instance  of  the  intimate  connection  that  sub- 
sists between  the  various  branches  to  which  our  mental  activity  is 
directed,  and  speculative  philosophy,  I would  point  out  that  of  the 
fine  arts.  Here,  as  in  most  other  subjects,  there  is  a practical,  and 
a theoretical  side,  the  former  of  which,  although  it  may  be  success- 
fully pursued  by  itself,  is  nevertheless  based  upon  the  latter.  Poetry 
may  be  loved,  and  may  be  created  by  the  impulse  of  an  enthusiastic 
soul,  and  the  exertion  of  a lively  imagination,  without  any  reflec- 
tion upon  the  sources  from  which  the  poetic  fire  is  kindled ; but  the 
inquiry  will  still  force  itself  upon  us  in  due  time — What  is  enthu- 
siasm, what  is  the  nature  of  creative  imagination,  and  what  is  the 
ground  upon  which  the  pleasure  we  derive  from  all  such  sources 
depends  ? The  answer  to  this,  it  is  evident,  will  lead  us  into 
abundant  metaphysical  inquiries  long  before  we  have  probed  the 
subject  to  its  complete  elucidation.  Painting,  again,  may  be  culti- 
vated simply  by  attention  to  practical  rules,  especially  when  there 
is  a natural  aptitude  for  it ; but  then  the  pleasure  we  derive  from 
it  arises  mainly  from  our  susceptibility  of  the  emotion  of  beauty. 
We  ask,  therefore.  What  is  Beauty?  How  is  it  excited?  In  what 
does  it  consist  ? Is  the  highest  beauty  real,  and  has  it  ever  been 
actually  embodied  in  nature  ? or  is  it  ideal,  and  only  imaged  in  the 
mind  ? Must  the  painter  strive  to  copy  exactly  what  exists,  or  has 

* The  philosophy  of  history  is  almost  entirely  a science  of  modern  times.  It  com- 
menced with  Jno.  Bapt.  Vico  (^born  at  Naples,  1650,)  in  his  “ Scienza  Nuova was 
further  developed  by  Herder  in  his  “ Ideen  zur  Philos,  der  Gesch.  der  Menschheit has 
since  received  further  contributions  from  Schlegel  and  the  German  Idealists  ; and, 
lastly,  has  been  reduced  to  the  forms  of  the  “ positive  philosophy,”  by  Auguste  Comte. 
The  term  Sociology  is  now  coming  into  use  to  designate  this  branch  of  scientific 
research.  See  Mill’s  “ Logic,”  vol.  ii. 


42 


INTRODUCTION. 


he  to  seek  a perfection  which  is  only  floating  within  his  own  mind, 
and  which  he  must  be  perpetually  endeavoring  to  transfer  from  the 
inner  chamber  of  imagery  to  the  canvas  before  him  ? The  de- 
cision of  this,  one  way  or  the  other,  will  give  rise  to  completely 
different  schools  of  painting.  The  advocate  of  the  beau-reaZ  would 
never  become  another  Raphael,  nor  would  the  advocate  of  the 
heau-ideal  ever  form  a second  Vandyk. 

If  it  be  asked,  why  we  should  employ  our  minds  in  theorizing  on 
these  different  subjects,  when  the  practical  application  of  them  can 
be  made  without  any  knowledge  whatever  of  their  theory,  we 
answer,  because  man  is  formed  with  a desire  to  know,  as  well  as  to 
do  and  feel,  because  the  love  of  knowledge  is  an  impulse  quite  as 
strong  as  those  other  impulses  which  lead  more  directly  to  action, 
and  because  we  can  no  more  be  happy  without  satisfying  the  for- 
mer, when  it  once  takes  possession  of  our  mind,  than  we  can  with- 
out satisfying  the  latter. 

If  from  the  fine  arts  we  descend  into  the  pursuits  and  toils  of 
practical  life,  here,  too,  we  soon  find  that  we  are  conducted  step  by 
step,  as  we  proceed  backward  towards  first  principles,  into  the 
region  of  metaphysics.  Our  practical  life  consists,  for  the  most 
part,  in  the  performance  of  duties.  But  what  is  a duty  ? What 
claim  has  it  over  our  conscience,  and  on  what  is  grounded  its  obli- 
gation ? I have  duties  to  perform  towards  my  country.  Is  pa- 
triotism, then,  an  emotion  implanted  by  nature,  and  if  so,  to  what 
extent  should  I compromise  my  own  natural  rights  in  favor  of  the 
community  at  large  ? The  whole  question  of  the  rights  of  nature, 
to  which  we  are  thus  brought,  leads  us,  as  we  before  remarked,  into 
one  of  the  most  fruitful  of  all  discussions  on  man’s  constitution 
and  position  in  the  present  world.  I have  other  duties,  moreover, 
to  perform  in  social  life,  and  again  others  which  relate  simply  to 
my  own  moral  being.  But  in  such  cases,  what  is  the  ground,  and 
what  the  rule  of  morality  ? To  elucidate  these  questions,  we  must 
take  the  torch  of  philosophy  to  our  aid,  and  only  when  we  have 
traced  back  the  whole  theory  of  our  practical  life  to  its  philosoph- 
ical principles,  do  we  find  a basis  upon  which  we  can  rest  with  any 
mental  satisfaction. 

These  few  instances,  perhaps,  may  be  sufficient  to  elucidate  the 
fact,  that  all  generalization,  whatever  be  the  subject  to  which  it  is 
applied,  tends  to  lead  us  into  philosophical  researches,  so  soon  as 
ever  it  begins  to  touch  upon  first  principles.  Other  arts  and  sci- 
ences aim  at  particular  objects,  accomplish  particular  purposes, 


INTRODUCTION. 


43 


and  carry  on  their  investigations  only  to  a particular  extent.  This 
being  accomplished,  the  end  of  each  is  satisfied.  Philosophy,  on 
the  contrary,  seeks  the  completion  of  our  knowledge  ; it  lays  bare 
the  hidden  foundations  upon  which  all  other  sciences  rest,  and 
weighs  the  validity  of  the  axioms  which  they  tacitly  assume.  No 
sooner  do  we  view  these  different  branches  of  human  knowledge 
with  the  eye  of  the  speculative  philosopher,  than  we  begin  at  once 
to  see  that  the  courses  of  them  all  are  convergent,  tending  perpet- 
ually to  one  point.  Many  of  the  minor  channels,  after  being  fol- 
lowed backward  for  a certain  distance,  merge  into  the  course  of 
some  wider  stream.  As  we  go  further  back  the  channels  become 
fewer,  though,  at  the  same  time,  wider  and  deeper  ; but  still  some 
few  remain  distinct  from  each  other,  and  ever  exhibit  a cloud  of 
darkness  enveloping  their  source,  until  the  philosophic  spirit  dares 
to  enter  the  cloud,  and  trace  their,  course  up  to  the  very  point 
where  they  all  unite.  On  this  account,  no  doubt,  philosophy  may 
sometimes  incur  the  charge  of  vagueness  and  indistinctness  in  its 
operations  and  results  ; but  instead  of  joining  in  this  complaint,  we 
should  rather  admire  the  courage  and  intelligence  that  dare  to  pen- 
etrate into  what  was  before  a region  of  cloud  and  darkness,  that 
succeed  in  gaining  new  glimpses  of  an  unknown  land,  and  that 
struggle  on  against  almost  insuperable  difficulties,  even  at  the  risk 
of  here  and  there  losing  the  road,  to  their  great  results.  Far  should 
we  be  from  regarding  it  as  presumptuous  to  enter  these  sacred 
limits,  or,  because  philosophy  is  sometimes  bewildered  in  the  mazes 
it  attempts  to  track,  denounce  its  whole  attempt  as  vain  and 
fruitless. 

Let  us  now  sum  up  the  results  of*  the  foregoing  considerations 
in  a few  words.  Man  possesses  intellectual  powers,  the  object  and 
constant  tendency  of  which  is  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  The 
advancement  of  knowledge  is  measured  by  the  power  of  accurate 
generalization,  and  all  generalization,  when  sufficiently  extensive, 
brings  us  to  the  investigation  of  first  principles,  that  is,  to  the  re- 
gion of  speculative  philosophy.  Hence  we  conclude  that  the  rise 
of  philosophy  is  inevitable,  being  necessitated  by  the  very  nature 
of  human  knowledge,  and  the  innate  tendency  we  possess  to  ac- 
quire it. 

From  this  point  of  view  we  can  now  gain  a clearer  insight  into 
the  true  idea  and  real  oifice  of  philosophy  properly  so  called. 
Striving  as  it  does  to  unite  all  the  various  objects  of  mental  pur- 
suit, to  complete  in  form  the  pyramid  of  human  knowledge,  to 


44 


INTRODUCTION. 


bring  even  the  very  foundations  thereof  to  view,  it  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  science  of  sciences,  as  that  which  shows  the  connec- 
tion and  the  basis  of  all  the  rest.  The  intellectual  philosophy  ^ 
accordingly,  of  any  age  may  be  regarded  as  the  last  word  which 
the  reason  of  that  age  pronounces,  inasmuch  as  its  laws,  politics, 
arts,  literature,  and  to  a certain  extent  its  peculiar  views  of  religion 
also,  are  but  the  reflex  of  the  philosophy  which  is  then  supreme. 
Or  perhaps  it  might  be  more  accurate  were  we  to  say,  that  the  in- 
tellectual spirit  of  any  epoch,  that  which  manifests  itself  in  the  va- 
rious channels  of  literary  and  practical  life,  finds  in  philosophy  its 
highest  expression,  and  shows  there  most  clearly  its  real  undis- 
guised form.* 

This  will  appear  more  evident  if  we  consider  that  philosophy 
places  every  subject  in  its  most  abstract  light,  and  seeks  to  bring 
everything  it  touches  upon  into  the  region  of  clear  and  definite 
thought.  Now  there  is  in  mankind  at  large  a process  of  latent 
thonglit  which  is  spontaneously  produced  by  the  spirit  of  the  age 
in  which  they  live,  but  is  only  seen  and  acknowledged  by  the  mass 
in  its  outward  and  visible  effects.  Men,  for  the  most  part,  view 
the  thoughts  and  conceptions,  by  which  their  minds  are  governed, 
only  in  the  peculiar  phases  which  the  literature,  the  arts,  the  re- 
ligion of  the  age  assume, — for  these  are  the  shrines  on  which  the 
divinities  they  worship  are  represented  in  a symbolical  form.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  ideas  which  can  only  operate  upon  the  mass 
of  mankind  through  some  external  channel,  and  in  some  objective 
form,  become  to  the  philosopher  strictly  subjective.  He  strips 
them  of  all  their  exterior  dress,  separates  the  mere  appendages 
from  the  essence,  and  views  them,  not  as  something  out  of  himself, 
but  as  parts  or  products  of  his  own  individual  consciousness.  In 
the  case  of  the  former,  the  subject,  which  observes,  entii'ely  sepa- 
rates itself  from  the  object,  which  is  observed.  The  power  of 
thought  goes  forth  spontaneously,  exerts  itself  spontaneously,  and 
at  length  embodies  itself  unconsciously  in  various  symbols,  which 
are  then  looked  upon  as  having  an  independent  existence  : in  the 
philosopher,  this  same  thought,  which  had  been  hitherto  sponta- 
neous, becomes  reflective,  and  the  distinction  of  subject  and  object 
is  destroyed  in  the  complete  identity  that  takes  place,  when  thought 
becomes  the  object  of  its  own  study  and  contemplation.  It  is  in 
philosophy,  therefore,  that  the  thought  of  every  age  comes  to  the 


♦ Cousin,  “ Cours  de  Philosophie” — Introd.  Lc9on  ix. 


INTRODUCTION. 


45 


proper  consciousness  of  itself,  and  appears  stripped  of  the  different 
dresses  in  which  alone  it  is  recognized  by  mankind  at  large.* 

In  every  period  of  the  world  there  are  some  few  great  ideas  or 
principles  at  work,  which,  though  sunk  deeply  and  almost  hidden 
at  the  very  core  and  centre  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  are  yet  work- 
ing themselves  outward,  and  impressing  their  shapes  upon  every 
feature  of  society.  What  do  we  mean  when  we  speak  of  great 
problems,  which  are  gradually  evolving  their  own  solution  in  the 
progressive  advancement  of  human  things  ? Is  not  the  real  mean- 
ing of  such  expressions  something  of  this  nature ; That  there  is 
some  great  thought  which  is  lying  at  present  half  unconsciously  in 
the  minds  of  the  people,  and  which  is  emerging  gradually  but  surely 
more  and  more  into  the  light  of  day  ? Every  age  assuredly  has 
some  such  thought,  which  appears  and  re-appears  in  a thousand 
different  forms.  It  shows  itself  in  the  habits  and  customs  which 
then  arise ; it  shows  itself  in  the  spirit  of  the  laws  and  institutions 
which  are  then  established  ; it  shows  itself  in  the  different  schools 
of  the  fine  arts,  which  ever  take  the  coloring  and  type  of  the  age 
that  gives  them  birth ; it  shows  itself  in  the  literature  which  is  then 
most  ardently  pursued ; and  to  no  little  extent  does  it  show  itself 
in  the  popular  forms  of  religion,  which  then  gain  favor  and  celeb- 
rity. The  thought  which  thus  almost  unconsciously  governs  the 
age,  at  length  comes  forth  in  its  purest  and  most  simple  form,  sep- 
arated from  all  the  extraneous  material  with  which  it  is  mixed  up, 
by  the  severe  analysis  to  which  it  is  subjected  in  the  crucible  of 
an  enlightened  philosophy.  There  is,  if  we  look  deep  enough,  an 
intellectual  cause  to  be  assigned  for  the  customs  and  manners  of 
society ; there  is  a psychological  ground,  from  which  spring  the 
different  forms  of  law  and  government ; similar  reasons  may  be 
found  for  the  rise  of  the  imaginative  arts,  of  the  different  fields  of 
literary  pursuit,  and  even  of  the  various  shades  of  religious  wor- 
ship ; for  there  are  but  few  comparatively  who,  uninfluenced  by 
the  spirit  of  the  age,  look  through  all  the  forms  and  phraseology 
even  of  Christianity  itself,  and  gaze  face  to  face  upon  the  eternal 
ideas  which  they  embody.  It  is  the  spirit  of  philosophy,  therefore, 
that  is  to  search  for  the  ground  of  all  these  multifarious  phenomena, 
to  look  under  the  surface  for  the  ideas  from  which  they  all  spring ; 
to  trace  every  manifestation  of  intelligence  in  human  society  to 
those  primary  laws  of  our  constitution  to  which  they  all  owe  their 
birth,  and  to  seek  thus  the  completion  of  our  knowledge  by  laying 

* On  this  point  see  Cousin’s  “ Cours  de  Philosophie” — Introduction,  Lc9on  i. 


46 


INTRODUCTION. 


bare  the  whole  superstructure  down  to  the  simple  foundation  on 
which  it  all  reposes.  Such  attempts  accordingly  we  Consider  to 
be  inevitable,  called  forth  as  they  are  by  the  natural  impulse  of  the 
human  mind  to  investigate  truth  to  its  mosl  universal  and  abstract 
forms,  and  to  discover  the  primary  elements  from  which  all  knowl- 
edge takes  its  rise.* 


Sect.  IV. — jPrimary  Elements  of  Human  Knowledge. 

The  advancement  of  human  knowledge  we  have  already  seen 
to  be  indicated  by  the  progress  of  accurate  generalization.  The 
most  ordinary  ideas  of  mankind  are  the  most  complex,  and  the 
effect  of  the  united  process  of  abstraction  and  generalization  is 
gradually  to  simplify  them,  until  we  arrive  at  the  ultimate  elements 
of  which  they  consist.  We  may  illustrate  this  by  a reference  to 
the  progress  of  chemical  science.  The  objects  of  nature  by  which 
we  are  surrounded  are  extremely  complex,  and  the  forms  which 
they  assume  infinitely  diversified.  The  chemist  begins  his  re- 
searches by  classifying  them  under  different  heads ; by  noting  down 
certain  properties  which  many  in  common  possess,  until  he  grad- 
ually arrives  at  the  knowledge  of  simpler  materials.  As  his  inves- 
tigation goes  on,  the  analysis  becomes  more  close  and  accurate, 
and  the  ultimate  point  at  which  it  all  tends  is  to  discover  the 
original  elements  of  which  the  whole  material  universe  consists. 
In  the  same  manner,  the  object  of  the  metaphysician  is  to  analyze 
thought,  to  reduce  the  multiplicity  of  our  mental  phenomena  to  a 
few  general  heads,  and  thus  ultimately  to  discover  the  primary 
elements  of  which  all  knowledge  consists.  Before  we  enter  upon 
the  history  of  philosophy,  therefore,  it  will  be  necessary  to  point 
out  what  the  primary  elements  really  are,  as  our  classification  of 
the  different  systems  of  philosophy  will  mainly  depend  upon  the 
view  we  take  of  this  point. 

In  deducing  these  elements,  it  is  not  my  present  intention  to  go 
into  a full  discussion  of  the  question,  since  this  would  bring  us  too 

* It  was  my  hope  and  intention  that  the  above  illustrations  should  make  evident  the 
sense  in  which  I understand  the  term  Philosophy  to  be  properly  used.  I fear  I have 
not  been  altogether  successful.  Dr.  Chalmers,  tNorth  Brit.  Rev.  Feb.  1847,)  assuming 
a peculiar  definition,  (that  which  reduces  all  philosophy  to  one  small  section  of  it, — 
namely,  Psychology,)  contends  that  I have  greatly  magnified  its  office.  Of  course 
I have,  if  all  I meant  to  include  in  it  is  mental  philosophy.  But  no  mistake  can  be 
greater  than  to  suppose  philosophy  and  psychology  to  be  here  taken  as  identical. 


INTRODUCTION. 


47 


rapidly  upon  the  most  difficult  problems  that  are  to  be  found  in  the 
whole  range  of  metaphysics ; all  we  shall  now  do  is,  simply  to  indi- 
cate in  few  words  the  results  which  have  been  arrived  at  by  the 
most  acute  analysts,  and  to  follow  their  track  until  a more  clear 
and  correct  one  shall  be  pointed  out. 

Now,  in  generalizing  our  knowledge,  so  as  to  deduce  the  ultimate 
elements  of  which  it  consists,  there  are  two  methods  which  may 
be  employed.  Either  we  may  make  a classification  of  all  objective 
things  around  us,  as  being  the  material  of  our  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings, and  having  reduced  them  to  their  most  universal  heads,  re- 
gard these  as  the  required  elements ; or,  on  the  other  hand,  we  may 
analyze  our  consciousness,  and  having  reduced  the  mental  phe- 
nomena we  find  there  to  the  smallest  possible  number,  assume 
these  as  the  elements  from  which  all  the  multiplicity  of  our 
thoughts  proceeds.  The  one  process  consists  of  a classification  of 
the  objects  of  our  knowledge — the  other  is  a dissection  of  thought 
in  its  subjective  phases.  The  former  of  these  methods,  it  is  well 
known,  was  pursued  by  Aristotle — the  first  man  who  undertook 
the  gigantic  task  of  reducing  the  multiplicity  of  all  the  objects  of 
human  knowledge  to  a few  general  heads — and  the  result  of  this 
attempt  was  the  ten  categories,  which  will  ever  remain  a standing 
monument  of  his  wonderful  power,  both  of  analysis  and  of  gen- 
eralization. 

Perhaps  it  may  seem  unnecessary  to  enumerate  anything  so  uni- 
versally knowm  as  these  categories,  but  we  give  them  here  to  assist 
the  reader  in  drawing  a comparison  between  the  result  of  Aris- 
totle’s investigations  on  this  point,  and  that  of  some  authors,  who 
have  given  other  classifications  upon  different  principles.  They 
are  as  follows  : — 1.  Substance  ; 2.  Quantity ; 3.  Quality  ; 4.  Rela- 
tion ; 5.  Action ; 6.  Passion  ; 7.  Place ; 8.  Time  ; 9.  Posture ; 
10.  Habit. 

That  this  enumeration  is  complete  in  the  sense  of  being  all- 
embracing,  there  can  be  but  little  doubt ; it  appears  impossible  to 
imagine  the  existence  of  any  object  of  human  thought,  externally 
considered,  which  might  not  be  fairly  reduced  to  one  of  these 
heads.  Admitting,  therefore,  the  principle  upon  which  Aristotle 
proceeds,  we  may  regard  his  classification,  not  indeed,  as  perfect, 
since  a much  closer  analysis  might  be  made  ; but  still,  as  being  on 
the  score  of  completeness  eminently  successful.  So  much  so,  in- 
deed, did  it  appear  to  other  minds,  that  no  improvement  upon  it 
was  effected  for  more  than  two  thousand  years. 


48 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  intellectual  effort,  however,  which  Aristotle  put  forth  to 
deduce  the  elements  of  human  knowledge,  was  renewed  by  Kant 
upon  the  other,  or  subjective  principle.  Instead  of  looking  to  the 
outward  materials  of  our  knowledge,  and  seeking  the  primary 
elements  from  an  analysis  and  generalization  of  these,  he  looked  to 
the  mind  itself,  inquired  into  the  fundamental  conceptions  under 
which  everything  external  must  be  viewed,  and  upon  these  con- 
ceptions constructed  a complete  table  of  categories.  Aristotle  had 
classified  the  matter  of  our  thoughts,  Kant  undertook  to  classify 
the  forms : the  one  deduced  the  objective,  the  other  the  subjective 
elements  in  human  knowledge.  Admitting,  as  did  both,  that  all 
our  ideas  must  have  their  raw  material  from  without,  and  that  this 
material  is  put  into  shape  and  order  by  the  powers  or  laws  of  the 
human  understanding,  Aristotle,  with  his  sensational  tendency, 
sought  to  accomplish  his  object  by  investigating  the  former,  while 
Kant,  with  his  ideal  tendency,  sought  the  same  object  by  investi- 
gating the  latter. 

In  order,  then,  to  accomplish  this  purpose,  Kant  showed  that 
there  are  three  great  faculties  in  man,  each  of  which  has  its  own 
laws  or  modes  of  operation.  These  are  (to  use  a plain  English 
phraseology) — Sensational-perception,  Understanding,  and  pure 
Reason.  Sensation  gives  the  matter  of  our  notions ; Under- 
standing gives  the  form ; while  Reason  brings  unity  and  connection 
to  the  whole  exercise  of  the  understanding,  and  aims  ever  at  the 
infinite,  the  unconditioned,  the  absolute.  The  forms  or  categories 
of  sensation  are  two — Time  and  Space.  It  is  the  where  and  the 
when  that  is  determined  by  this  faculty,  since  everything  we  per- 
ceive must  by  that  very  act  be  placed  in  some  given  time,  and  in 
some  given  space.  The  laws  of  the  understanding,  which  are 
more  peculiarly  denominated  “ Categories,”  by  Kant,  are  reduced 
to  twelve, — these  twelve  falling  under  four  general,  or  head-cate- 
gories. 1.  Under  the  head  of  Quantity,  we  have  Unity,  Plurality, 
and  Totality ; 2.  Under  the  head  of  Quality,  we  have  Affirmation, 
Negation,  and  Limitation  ; 3.  Under  the  head  of  Relation,  we 
have  Substance,  Causality,  and  Reciprocity ; and  lastly.  Under  the 
head  of  Modality,  are  contained  Possibility,  Actuality,  and  Neces- 
sity. These  are,  according  to  Kant,  the  twelve  conceptions  in 
relation  to  which  everything  really  existing  must  be  viewed. 
Then,  lastly,  comes  the  highest  faculty  of  man,  that  of  pure 
Reason,  the  form  of  which  is  absolute  unity,  and  which,  according 
as  it  is  directed  to  substance,  or  to  phenomena,  or  to  the  ideal  of 


I 


INTRODUCTION.  49 

perfection,  leads  to  the  three  irreducible  ideas— of  the  Soul  (the 
absolute  subject),  of  the  Universe  (the  totality  of  all  phenomena), 
and  of  God  (the  all-perfect  essence).  To  sum  up,  then,  the  whole 
analysis  which  Kant  gives  us  of  our  intellectual  nature,  or,  as  he 
would  term  them,  modes  of  our  intellectual  being,  we  have  two  for 
our  Sensational  faculty,  twelve  for  the  Understanding,  and  three 
by  which  the  Reason  strives  after  absolute  unity  in  its  ideas ; 
making  in  all  seventeen  categories.  The  fuller  explanation  of 
Kant’s  doctrine  of  the  categories,  we  must  leave  till  we  come  to 
the  consideration  of  the  Kantian  Philosophy  in  its  proper  place.* 

The  influence  of  Kant  in  Germany  drew  the  attention  of 
philosophers  mainly  to  the  one  point,  which  he  had  treated  with  so 
great  skill  and  acuteness — ^namely,  the  determination  of  the  funda- 
mental laws  of  thought,  or  the  primary  elements  of  our  intellectual 
being.  As  the  analysis  became  more  close,  doubts  were  enter- 
tained as  to  the  correctness  of  his  classification.  The  number  of 
these  fundamental  laws  or  primary  elements  became  thus  gradually 
reduced,  and  the  foundations  of  intellectual  science  by  degrees  con- 
fined within  narrower  limits.  The  history  of  this  process  will  be 
pointed  out  more  particularly  hereafter ; the  fruits  of  it,  to  which 
only  we  can  now  refer,  have  been  abundantly  reaped,  and  still 
further  matured,  by  one  of  the  first  of  living  philosophers, 
M.  Cousin,  who,  with  singular  depth  and  clearness,  has  critized  the 
labors  of  Kant,  and  by  the  application  of  all  the  rigor  of  more 
modern  analysis,  has  reduced  the  whole  of  the  Kantian  categories 
to  two  fundamental  ideas. 

According  to  Cousin,  then,  all  our  thoughts  may  be  reduced  to 
the  two  primitive  ideas  of  Action  and  Being ; the  one  giving  the  il 
category  of  causality,  the  other  of  substance  ; the  one  implying  the 
relative,  the  contingent,  the  particular,  the  phenomenal ; the  other 
implying  the  absolute,  the  necessary,  the  universal,  the  infinite. 
Without  entering  into  the  abstruse  details,  by  which  the  categories 
of  Kant  are  referred  to  these  heads,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  point 
out  how  these  two  fundamental  ideas  are  deduced,  and  what  they 
severally  contain ; and,  perhaps,  it  is  impossible  to  give  this  deduc- 
tion in  clearer  and  more  concentrated  language  than  that  which 
has  been  employed  by  M.  Cousin  himself  “ The  human  reason,” 

* The  doctrine  ofthc  Categories  or  fundamental  ideas  of  the  human  mind,  is  still  the 
subject  of  much  philosophical  discussion.  Among  the  most  recent  treatises  on  the 
subject  we  may  mention  an  “ Essai  d’une  Nouvelle  Theorie  sur  les  Idces  fondamen- 
tales,”  par  F.  Perron,  Paris,  1843;  also,  in  German,  a learned  and  somewhat  popular 
work  entitled  “ Geschichte  der  Kategorienlehre,”  by  F.  A.  Trendelenburg. 

4 


50 


INTRODUCTION. 


he  say?,  “in  whatever  manner  it  develops  itself,  whatever  it 
grasps,  on  whatever  it  meditates ; whether  it  stop  short  with  the 
observation  of  surrounding  nature,  or  whether  it  penetrates  into 
the  depths  of  the  inward  world,  conceives  of  all  things  under  the 
type  of  two  ideas.  If  it  examines  number  and  quantity,  it  is 
impossible  for  it  to  see  anything  there  more  than  unity  and  multi- 
plicity. The  one  and  the  diverse,  the  one  and  the  multiple,  unity 
and  plurality,  these  are  the  two  elementary  ideas  of  reason,  in 
which  every  consideration  relative  to  number  terminates.  If  it 
occupies  itself  with  space,  it  can  only  conceive  of  it  under  two 
points  of  view,  those,  namely,  of  bounded  or  determined  space  on 
the  one  side,  of  absolute  space  on  the  other.  If  it  occupies  itself 
with  existence,  if  it  views  things  under  the  sole  respect  that  they 
are,  it  can  only  conceive  of  the  idea  of  absolute  existence,  or  the 
idea  of  relative  existence.  Does  it  think  of  time  ? It  conceives 
either  of  time  as  determined,  (time  properly  so  called,)  or  of  time 
in  itself,  absolute  time — namely,  eternity ; in  the  same  manner  as 
absolute  space  is  immensity.  Does  it  think  of  forms  ? It  conceives 
either  of  a form  that  is  finite,  determined,  limited,  measurable ; or 
of  something  which  is  the  principle  of  this  form,  which  is  neither 
measurable,  nor  limited,  nor  finite  ; in  a word,  it  conceives  of  the 
infinite.  If  it  thinks  of  movement  or  action,  it  can  only  conceive 
of  limited  action,  and  the  source  of  limited  action ; of  powers  and 
causes  that  are  bounded,  relative  and  secondary,  on  the  one  hand, 
or  of  an  absolute  power,  a first  cause,  on  the  other,  beneath  which, 
in  respect  of  action,  it  is  not  possible  to  seek  or  to  find  anything. 
If  it  thinks  of  all  exterior  and  interior  phenomena,  which  develop 
themselves  around  us — of  this  whole  moving  scene  of  events  and 
accidents  of  every  kind ; there,  again,  it  can  only  conceive  of  two 
things,  the  manifestation  and  appearance,  as  simple  appearance  and 
simple  manifestation ; or  of  that  which,  while  it  appears,  retains 
something  that  does  not  pass  away  in  the  appearing — that  is,  of 
being  in  itself ; or,  to  take  the  language  of  science,  we  here  con- 
ceive of  phenomenon  and  substance.  In  thought  again,  it  con- 
ceives of  thoughts  which  refer  to  this  thing  or  that,  which  may  be 
or  may  not  be ; and  it  conceives  of  the  principle  of  thought  in 
itself — the  principle  which  exists,  without  doubt,  in  all  our  relative 
thoughts,  but  which  is  never  exhausted.  In  the  moral  world,  it  con- 
ceives of  certain  things  as  beautiful  or  good  ; and  then  it  inevitably 
brings  there  also  these  same  categories  of  the  finite  and  infinite, 
which  become  now  the  perfect  and  the  imperfect,  the  beau-real 


INTRODUCTION. 


51 


and  the  beau-ideal,  virtues  with  the  miseries  of  reality,  or  the  saint 
in  his  elevation  and  unsullied  purity.  These,  as  it  appears  to  me,” 
adds  M.  Cousin,  “ are  all  the  elements  of  human  reason.  The  out- 
ward world,  the  intellectual  world,-  the  moral  world,  all  are  sub- 
jected to  these  two  ideas.  Reason  only  develops  and  can  only 
develop  itself  on  these  two  conditions.  The  great  division  of  ideas 
now  universally  accepted,  is  that  into  contingent  and  necessary 
ideas.  This  division,  in  a more  circumscribed  point  of  view,  is  the 
reflex  of  that  at  which  I stop,  and  which  you  can  represent  to  your- 
selves under  the  formula  of  unity  and  multiplicity,  of  substance 
and  phenomenon,  of  absolute  cause  and  relative  causes,  of  the  per- 
fect and  imperfect,  of  the  finite  and  the  infinite.”* 

Such  is  M.  Cousin’s  ultimate  reduction  of  the  primary  elements 
of  all  our  knowledge.  As,  however,  the  category  of  causality  con- 
tains in  it  two  very  important  and  very  distinct  ideas,  it  may  be  as 
well  to  give  another  and  a simpler  deduction  of  these  great  funda- 
mental conceptions  of  the  human  mind ; one  which  may,  perhaps, 
place  the  whole  question  in  a somewhat  clearer  light. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  idea  that  we  possess  within  our  con- 
sciousness, is  that  of  our  own  existence.  The  notion  of  self,  or  of 
the  me,  as  it  has  been  so  often  and  so  significantly  termed,  must  ne- 
cessarily be  a primitive  and  a universal  notion,  since  it  is  implied 
in  every  perception  we  experience,  in  every  thought  we  create,  in 
a word,  in  every  mental  act  we  perform.  We  all  feel  conscious 
that  there  is  something  we  call  ourselves,  which  possesses  and  can 
exert  power,  and  to  which,  as  a fundamental  unity,  all  the  multi- 
plicity of  our  thoughts  and  feelings  are  to  be  referred.  This  power, 
however,  or  energy,  which  we  variously  call  the  will,  the  acting 
and  knowing  principle,  or  the  me,  is  not  an  infinite  and  absolute 
power.  On  the  contrary,  it  finds  itself  bounded,  resisted,  and  op- 
posed on  every  side.  There  is  not  an  effort  we  put  forth,  but  we 
find  it  limited  and  circumscribed  by  some  counter  force,  which  we 
are  conscious  really  exists,  and  which  acts  upon  us  independently 
of  ourselves.  No  sooner  do  we  become  cognizant  of  self,  and  the 
power  we  possess  of  willing  and  acting,  than  we  find  all  around  a 
world  that  offers  resistance  to  us  at  every  point,  together  with  phe- 
nomena and  laws  that  often  seem  directly  in  contradiction  to  our 
own  volitions,  and  which,  if  not  attended  to,  would  instantly  involve 
us  in  suffering  and  death.  To  the  idea  of  self  there  stands  opposed, 
therefore,  the  idea  of  something  which  is  not  self;  or,  as  it  has 
♦ Vid.  “ Couis  de  I'Histoire  de  la  Philosophie,”  Introd.  Lect.  iv. 


52 


INTRODUCTION. 


been  otherwise  expressed,  the  me  finds  around  it  other  existences 
that  are  separate  from  us,  and  which,  therefore,  we  may  term  the 
not-me,  as  being  the  most  general  phrase  by  which  it  can  be  de- 
nominated. The  one  of  these' ideas,  indeed,  supposes  and  involves 
the  other.  We  could  have  no  distinct  notion  of  self,  but  as  opposed 
to,  and  separate  from,  other  existences  around  us ; nor  could  we 
have  any  notion  of  an  external  world,  but  as  something  which  is 
opposed  to  and  separate  from  ourselves. 

These,  then,  are  two  of  the  most  fundamental  ideas  of  the  human 
mind  : that  of  self  on  the  one  side,  with  its  intelligence  and  its  lib- 
erty ; that  of  a physical  world  on  the  other,  with  its  power  of  iner- 
tia— a world  to  whose  laws  we  are  to  some  extent  subjected,  and 
which  we  have,  by  mingled  obedience  and  resistance,  to  bend  and 
mould  to  our  necessities  and  desires.  So  far,  however,  we  are  not 
yet  out  of  the  region  of  the  finite.  The  me,  as  we  have  seen,  is  lim- 
ited in  its  actions  and  volitions  by  the  not-me : it  is  a finite  cause, 
that  can  be  resisted  and  changed  variously  by  other  causes  which 
act  around  it.  Nature,  too,  is  finite.  It  can  only  oppose  us  to  a 
limited  extent,  and  we  can  in  our  turn  resist  and  modify  it.  Both 
of  these  ideas,  therefore,  come  under  the  notion  of  the  relative,  the 
limited,  the  bounded,  the  finite,  the  phenomenal ; and  both  equally 
belong  to  the  category  of  causality,  the  former  being  a voluntary 
or  intentional  cause,  the  other  a blind  and  fatal  one. 

These  two  general  ideas,  however,  which  we  have  thus  placed 
under  the  category  of  causality,  by  no  means  exhaust  all  the  mate- 
rials of  thought  that  exist  in  the  human  mind.*  Just  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  me  implies  the  notion  of  a not-me  from  which  it  is 
distinguished,  and  by  the  perception  of  which  we  become  conscious 
of  our  own  separate  individuality  in  the  whole  universe  of  things 
around  us ; — so  the  notion  of  the  limited  and  the  finite  implies  the 
correlative  one  of  the  unlimited  and  the  infinite.  Let  any  one  at- 
tentively examine  his  own  inmost  thoughts,  and  he  will  find  that 
there  can  be  no  distinct  idea  whatever  in  the  mind,  without  the  im- 
plication of  something  else  from  which  it  is  separated,  and  to  which 
it  is  opposed.  Every  distinct  idea  must  be  defined ; that  is,  it  must 
be  hounded  q^from  other  ideas,  the  existence  of  which  ideas  is  ac- 

* The  division  of  the  me  and  the  not-me,  would  certainly  appear  to  be  exhaustive  at 
first  sight,  and  with  regard  to  finite  existence  it  is  so.  But  when  we  come  to  consider 
absolute  existence,  we  can  no  more  refer  it  to  the  one  than  to  the  other.  Self  and 
nature  both  lie  embosomed  in  the  infinite; — the  me  and  the  not-me  equally  partake  of 
the  absolute  in  their  essence,  and  it  is  in  this  view  of  the  case,  that  to  these  two  finite 
conceptions  we  add  the  idea  of  the  infinite,  as  that  in  which  they  both  subsist.  To 
include  the  absolute  in  the  not-Ttie,  as  some  propose,  would  be  to  exclude  an  absolute 
ground  from  the  idea  of  humanity.  This  we  cannot  admit. 


INTRODUCTION. 


53 


cordingly  supposed  by  the  very  fact  of  definition.  Take  the  idea  of 
relative,  and  see  whether  it  would  convey  any  notion  to  the  mind 
whatever,  unless  the  idea  of  absolute  existed  as  that  to  which  it  is 
opposed.  What,  again,  were  our  notion  of  finite,  without  the  cor- 
relative one  of  infinite ; or  what  of  multiplicity,  without  that  of 
unity  ? Now,  if  we  take  the  category  of  causality  in  any  of  the 
different  phases  under  which  we  have  presented  it,  we  find  that  in  , 
every  case  there  is  a correlative  and  an  opposed  notion,  which  we  ' 
must  place  in  what  we  have  termed  the  category  of  substance ; i.  e. 
of  the  infinite  and  unchangeable,  or  of  being  per  se.  If,  e.  g.,  we  ; 
consider  the  world  of  phenomena,  we  are  necessitated  by  our  rea-  ’ 
son  itself  to  suppose  and  admit  some  substance,  in  which  these  phe- 
nomena adhere,  and  which  remains  ever  essentially  the  same 
amidst  all  the  changes  that  may  appear  on  the  surface.  If  we  • 
think  of  cause,  we  are  unable  to  imagine  it  without  admitting  the 
existence  of  some  being,  from  which  the  power,  variously  displayed, 
emanates.  If  we  think  of  events,  we  cannot  conceive  of  them 
without  time,  the  one  immeasurable  duration  in  which  all  events 
exist.  If  we  think  of  objects  as  they  lie  in  space  around  us,  we  are 
obliged  to  refer  them  to  a universal  space  that  envelops  all  the 
visible  in  its  vast  embrace.  In  all  these  instances  the  two  catego- 
ries penetrate  each  other,  so  that  the  one  notion  only  becomes  pos- 
sible by  the  opposition  with  which  the  other  throws  it  out  before 
our  view. 

The  same  primary  ideas,  which  we  have  deduced  by  the  fore- 
going process,  arise  equally  before  our  view  when  we  confine  our 
attention  to  the  subjective  world,  and  analyze  the  phenomena  of 
our  own  mental  faculties.  The  mind  of  man  is  the  mirror  of  uni- 
versal nature,  and  whatever  exists  accessible  to  us  in  the  whole 
region  of  being,  material  or  spiritual,  we  find  imaged  in  us  with 
the  most  perfect  accuracy:  Man  possesses  a sensational  faculty ; 
and  to  what  does  this  point  us  ? Manifestly  to  the  objective  exist- 
ence of  an  external  world,  the  varied  forms  of  which  are,  by  means 
of  this  faculty,  made  accessible  to  our  own  minds.  Man  possesses, 
moreover,  intelligence  ; he  possesses  the  power  of  volition,  he  pos- 
sesses impulses,  desires,  affections,  and  all  these  phenomena  imply 
the  existence  of  a subject  to  which  they  alike  belong.  Intelligence 
is  my  intelligence ; it  is  the  comprehension  of  things  as  I have 
classified  and  generalized  them  for  my  own  use  and  convenience. 
Volition  is  my  volition;  and  so  also  are  the  various  desires  and 
impulses  my  own  subjective  feelings,  those  which  I myself  experi- 


54 


INTRODUCTION. 


ence,  and  which  no  one  else  can  experience  precisely  in  the  same 
manner.  Here,  then,  we  find  our  own  faculties  pointing  out  to  us 
by  their  very  constitution,  the  existence  of  two  realities  ; in  the 
one  case,  that  of  the  being  I term  self,  in  the  other  case,  that  of  an 
external  world  which  is  distinguished  from  self,  and  opposed  to  it. 
In  both  cases,  however,  we  are  kept  down  within  the  region  of  the 
finite  and  the  relative  : for  neither  sensation  nor  understanding, 
nor  our  desires  or  volitions,  lead  us  directly  to  the  region  of  the 
absolute  and  eternal. 

If  we  look  a little  further,  however,  we  find  that  man  has  the 
faculty  of  perceiving  absolute  and  necessary  truth,  as  well  as  that 
which  is  relative  and  finite  ; that  there  are  ideas  within  us  which 
come  neither  through  the  channel  of  the  senses  nor  are  dependent 
upon  the  peculiar  constitution  of  our  own  minds,  but  which  are  the 
clear  reflection  within  us  of  absolute  and  eternal  realities.  In  the 
case  of  sensation,  I perceive  objects  which  might  or  might  not  be ; 
objects  which  may  yet  be  changed  and  modified  in  a thousand  dif- 
ferent ways.  In  simple  understanding,  I observe  relations  which 
might  or  which  might  not  exist, — relations,  perhaps,  which  I have 
artificially  made  for  my  own  use,  and  which  I can  as  easily  destroy. 
In  every  case  of  volition,  the  resolution  to  which  I come  is  strictly 
my  own,  i.  e.  the  fruit  of  my  own  will.  But  far  otherwise  is  it  with 
everything  belonging  to  pure  and  absolute  reason.  Take  for 
instance,  any  axiomatic  truth  of  pure  mathematics.  It  is  not  through 
mere  sensation  that  you  have  arrived  at  it ; neither  is  it  an  arbi- 
trary 7'elation  of  your  own  production  ; nor  is  it  conceived  of  in 
pursuance  of  any  resolution  of  your  own  will.  Try  as  you  may, 
and  you  cannot  alter  the  conceptions  of  pure  reason  even  to  an 
infinitesimal  degree.  My  sensations  are  my  own,  and  my  voli- 
tions are  my  own  ; but  truth,  absolute  truth,  is  not  mine  nor  yours, 
neither  is  it  within  the  bounds  of  our  possible  belief,  that  it  should 
be  different  to  any  rational  mind  from  what  it  is  to  ours.  Absolute 
truth  has  no  element  of  personality  in  it,  and  our  reason,  therefore, 
as  far  as  it  grasps  the  necessary  and  the  eternal,  is  strictly  speaking 
an  impersonal  reason.  It  is  the  reflection  within  ourselves  of 
eternal  things,  as  they  are — an  emanation  or  ray  of  the  infinite 
reason,  which  governs  the  universe  by  the  laws  of  unerring  wisdom 
and  truth,  and  which,  as  far  as  it  is  manifested  at  all,  is  manifested 
to  every  mind  alike.* 

« To  comprehend  the  impersonality  of  reason  aright,  the  reader  should  study 
Cousin’s  doctrine  of  “ pure  apperception,”  which  he  will  find  clearly  stated  in  the  I3th 
Lecture  of  his  “ Cours  de  Phil,  sur  le  Pondement  du  Vrai,  du  Beau,  et  du  Bien.” 


INTRODUCTION. 


55 


Here,  then,  we  are  led  again  to  the  same  virtual  conclusion,  that 
the  three  great  and  primary  elements  of  all  our  knowledge  are, 
firstly,  the  idea  of  our  own  individual  existence,  or  of  finite  mind 
in  general ; secondly,  the  idea  of  nature ; and,  thirdly,  the  idea  of 
the  absolute  and  eternal,  as  manifested  in  the  pure  conceptions  of 
our  impersonal  reason.  Every  notion  of  our  intellectual  life,  we 
believe,  may  be  traced  to  one  of  these  sources,  and  we  regard 
them,  therefore,  as  the  primitive  elements  of  all  our  knowledge, — 
starting-points  from  which  every  true  system  of  intellectual  phi- 
losophy must  take  its  rise.  It  is  to  the  method,  then,  by  which 
the  different  philosophical  systems  have  grounded  themselves  upon 
these  fundamental  ideas,  that  we  must  now  briefly  revert. 


Sect.  V. — Systems  of  Philosophy. 

A synthetical  system  of  intellectual  philosophy  has  for  its  ob- 
ject,— first,  a complete  enumeration  of  all  the  primary  elements  of 
our  knowledge ; and  secondly,  the  expansion  of  these  simple  ele- 
ments into  all  the  multiplicity  of  our  ideas  and  conceptions,  how- 
ever varied  and  complicated  they  may  appear.  Philosophical  sys- 
tems, therefore,  will  differ  amongst  themselves,  according  as  they 
hold  up  any  one  of  these  fundamental  ideas,  which  we  have  de- 
duced, most  prominently  to  our  view,  and  make  it  either  the  chief 
or  the  sole  element  from  which  all  our  other  ideas  are  derived. 
Systems  of  philosophy  have  accordingly  ever  taken  three  great 
directions,  corresponding  to  the  three  fundamental  ideas,  upon  one 
or  other  of  which  they  have  severally  been  founded.  These  three 
primary  directions  of  the  philosophic  spirit,  we  must  first  of  all 
elucidate,  and  then  show  the  other  or  secondary  directions  which 
arise  from  them. 

The  most  vivid  and  striking  facts  of  our  consciousness  are  un- 
questionably those  which  we  term  sensations.  To  them  the  mind 
is  sure  at  first  to  bend  its  attention,  and  as  the  progress  of  investi- 
gation goes  on,  it  discovers  an  immense  multitude  of  notions  over 
and  above  our  simple  perceptions,  the  germ  of  which  must  un- 
doubtedly be  traced  to  the  sensational  faculty.  Physical  science, 
for  example,  in  all  its  branches,  and  every  kind  of  knowledge,  in- 
deed, that  is  connected  with  the  objects  of  the  external  world,  arise 
directly  from  the  analysis,  classification,  and  general  investigation 
of  those  numberless  materials,  which  come  through  the  channel  of 


56 


INTRODUCTION. 


our  sensations.  So  far  the  progress  of  what  we  shall  term  the 
sensational  philosophy  is  perfectly  legitimate  and  correct,  and  has 
given  rise  from  time  to  time  to  splendid  results.  Many  philoso- 
phers, however,  absorbed  in  the  multitude,  the  variety,  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  fruits  of  physical  science,  have  lost  sight  of  every- 
thing else — have  made  the  senses  the  sole  fountains  of  human 
knowledge,  and  built  up  a whole  metaphysical  system  upon  the 
basis  of  external  nature.  Such,  in  fact,  was  the  philosophy  of  the 
French  Encyclopaedists,  and  such,  in  tendency,  was  the  philosophy 
of  Locke. 

A precisely  contrary  direction,  on  the  other  hand,  has  arisen 
from  a too  close  and  partial  analysis  of  self.  In  this  analysis  our 
volitions,  our  desires,  and  the  subjective  laws  of  our  reason  and 
intelligence,  were  very  properly  and  plainly  separated  from  the 
whole  region  of  sensation ; but  after  a time,  when  attention  be- 
came entirely  concentrated  upon  the  inherent  powers  of  the  indi- 
vidual mind,  the  external  world  itself  was  made  to  depend  upon 
its  subjective  laws,  and  there  resulted  a whole  philosophical  system 
based  upon  the  one  notion  of  self,  with  its  native  and  exhaustless 
energies.  Such  is  idealism, — true  and  beautiful  in  its  results,  so 
long  as  it  investigates  what  are,  properly  speaking,  the  innate  facul- 
ties of  the  human  mind,  but  false  and  delusive  when  it  would  go  a 
step  too  far,  and  draw  from  within  w'hat  a more  accurate  philoso- 
phy shows  to  arise  from  an  objective  world  around  us.  Such,  in 
its  fullest  extent,  was  the  philosophy  of  Berkeley  in  England,  and 
of  Fichte  in  Germany ; such,  in  its  tendency,  was  Kantism ; and 
such,  in  its  first  and  better  movement,  was  the  system  with  which 
Dr.  Reid  honored  and  enlightened  his  country. 

The  third  element  of  our  intellectual  life  remains,  that,  namely, 
which  appears  under  the  varied  forms  of  the  substantial,  the  eter- 
nal, the  immeasurable,  the  infinite  ; in  a word,  the  idea  of  being 
itself  in  which  the  finite  mind  and  finite  nature  are  both  equally 
grounded  ; and  accordingly,  we  look  around  now  for  a philosophy, 
which  answers  to  this  fundamental  notion.  What,  then,  we  inquire, 
must  necessarily  be  the  character  of  sufch  a philosophy,  when  the 
world  of  phenomena  is  sunk  in  the  profounder  idea  of  substance, 
when  the  varied  phases  of  our  own  consciousness  are  lost  in  the 
depths  of  Being  per  se, — when  subject  and  object  are  both  ab- 
sorbed in  one  prior  and  eternal  principle, — the  Temporal  lost  in  the 
Eternal,  the  Finite  in  the  Infinite.  This  philosophy  has  been  real- 
ized in  different  forms  under  the  one  idea  of  Pantheism.  Such,  in 


INTROiDUCTION. 


57 


the  ancient  world,  was  substantially  the  doctrine  of  the  Eleatics ; 
such,  in  modern  times,  was  the  doctrine  of  Spinoza ; and  such,  in  a 
more  refined  and  perfect  form,  are  now  the  respective  philosophies 
f Schelling  and  Hegel.  As,  however,  the  pantheistic  scheme  is 
roperly  idealistic,  (inasmuch  as  the  material  world  is  virtually  de- 
nied,) we  may  include  the  two  latter  of  the  three  systems  I have 
pointed  out  under  the  general  term  of  Idealism ; and  if  we  wish  to 
make  a distinction  between  them,  we  may  term  the  one  subjective 
idealism  (that  which  absorbs  everything  in  the  subject — the  me^ 
and  the  other  objective  idealism,  or  the  doctrine  which  reduces 
everything  to  the  one  infinite,  unchangeable,  objective  substance  or 
being,  of  which,  and  in  which,  all  things  consist.  In  this  way  we 
shall  have  simply  two  main  tendencies  in  philosophy ; that  of  sen- 
sationalism on  the  one  hand,  and  idealism  on  the  other.* 

That  the  philosophic  spirit,  however,  should  remain  content 
with  the  struggles  of  two  opposite  schools,  both  giving  opposite 
conclusions,  and  both  running  into  extravagant  results,  was  a thing 
in  its  nature  impossible.  The  contradictions  thus  thrown  up  to 
view  naturally  give  rise  to  a critical  philosophy,  the  object  of  which 
is  to  examine  the  grounds  and  pretensions  of  every  other  system, 
to  check  the  progress  and  arraign  the  conclusions  of  dogmatism, 
and  to  get  nearer  the  True  by  denying  and  overturning  the  False. 
The  philosophy  which  thus  aims  at  detecting  falsehood  without  at- 
tempting to  build  up  any  system  of  truth,  we  term  Scepticism : 
not  that  contemptible  species  of  scepticism  which,  as  practised  by 


♦ An  acute  writer  in  the  Prospective  Review  (No.  viii.)  has  expressed  surprise  that  I 
should  include  the  two  categories  of  The  me  and  the  Absolute  under  the  one  tWe 
of  Idealism.  I remark,  in  reply  to  his  observations,  that  the  classification  is  a matter  of 
convenience,  and  not  at  all  intended,  as  he  supposes,  to  merge  the  two  ideas  into 
one.  The  terms  subjective  and  objective  idealism,  have  long  been  applied  to  these  two 
movements ; so  that  I am  merely  retaining  the  well-known  phraseology  of  the  German 
schools.  The  reason  of  my  retaining  the  classification  is  this — that  in  our  common 
philosophical  language  sensations  and  ideas  represent  the  two  great  sources  of  our 
knowledge.  We  have  an  outward  source — nature;  and  an  inward  source — fure  ideas, 
which  terminate  on  the  side  of  the  wUL  in  self — on  the  side  of  the  reason  in  God. 
Sensationalism,  accordingly,  is  the  philosophy  built  upon  the  former — subjective  and 
objective  idealism  is  that  built  upon  the  two  latter.  To  say  that  “ the  proper  association 
of  the  absolute  is  with  the  not-me,”  (p.  561,)  either  throws  the  category  of  the  me  into  a 
false  position,  di/  making  it  opposed  to  the  absolute  in  a sense  in  which  nature  is  not 
opposed  to  it ; or  commits  the  same  error  which  is  wrongly  attributed  to  myself,  namely, 
that  of  throwing  two  distinct  terms,  nature  and  the  absolute,  under  one  category — that 
of  the  not-me.  And  yet  a little  further  on  (p.  563. ) it  is  proposed  to  deduce  the  absolute, 
alike  from  the  me  and  the  not-me,  when  viewed  not  as  cause  but  as  condition.  To 
associate  the  absolute  with  the  not-me,  and  then  to  deduce  it  immediately  from 
both  categories  together,  appears  to  me  an  instance  of  “ unaccauntal/le  simplicity,’'  at 
least  equal  to  that  which  the  writer  attributes  to  myself  in  uniting  the  me  and  the  not- 
me  under  the  head  of  idealism.  If  I have  not  caught  his  meaning,  I must  plead 
as  excuse,  that  his  style  seems  expressly  adapted  to  hide  the  thoughts  behind  a dazzling 
brilliancy  of  ornamental  illumination. 


58 


INTRODirCTION. 


some,  is  nothing  more  than  a secret  abhorrence  of  human  reason, 
and  a disguised  misanthropy ; but  that  which  honestly  aims  after 
truth  by  means  of  exposing  error  wherever  it  may  lurk.  As  in  the 
case  of  sensationalism  and  idealism,  therefore,  so  also  in  scepticism 
there  is  a good  side  and  a bad  ; the  one  seeking  to  establish  truth, 
by  separating  from  it  all  untruth,  the  other  seeking  to  lay  truth  as 
well  as  error  alike  prostrate  at  the  foot  of  an  obstinate  and  irra- 
tional unbelief.  Such,  then,  is  the  natural  result  of  the  struggle 
between  an  extreme  sensationalism  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  ex- 
treme idealism  on  the  other. 

That  scepticism,  however,  should  be  the  culminating  point  of 
the  philosophic  spirit,  and  that  the  human  mind  should  rest  satisfied 
with  the  ultimate  conclusion,  that  the  highest  wisdom  is  to  doubt, 
were  altogether  inconceivable.  Sceptical  philosophy  may  be  in- 
valuable as  an  instrument,  which  helps  us  on  the  road  to  truth  by 
dissipating  fond  delusions;  but  the  mind  can  only  repose  at  last  in 
positive,  or,  as  we  may  term  them,  . rfp^???,(^jca/.  result^^  What, 
then,  is"  the  next  step  to  which  the  human  mind  advanced  after 
sensationalism,  idealism,  and  scepticism  had  exhausted  their  re- 
sources and  left  it  in  doubt  ? The  resource,  we  answer,  in  which 
the  mind  last  of  all  takes  refuge,  is  Mysticism.  Reason  and  reflec- 
tion have  apparently  put  forth  all  thmr"po\\^r,  and  ended  in  uncer- 
tainty. The  mystic  thereupon  rises  to  view,  and  says  to  the  rest 
of  the  philosophers  around  him, — Ye  have  all  alike  mistaken  the 
road,  ye  have  sought  for  truth  from  a totally  incorrect  source,  and 
entirely  overlooked  the  one  divine  element  within  you,  from  which 
alone  it  can  be  derived.  Reason  is  imperfect,  it  halts  and  stum- 
bles at  every  step,  when  it  would  penetrate  into  the  deeper  recesses 
of  pure  and  absolute  truth.  But  look  y^ithin  you  ; is  there  not  a 
spiritual  nature  there,  that  allies  you  with  the  spiritual  world ; is 
there  not  an  enthusiasm  which  arises  in  all  its  energy,  when  reason 
gi’ows  calm  and  silent ; is  there  not  a light  that  envelops  all  the 
faculties,  if  you  will  only  give  yourself  up  to  your  better  feelings> 
and  listen  to  the  voice  of  the  God  that  speaks  and  stirs  within  ? 
To  this  source,  then,  the  mystic  looks  for  a knowledge  that  far 
transcends  the  feeble  results  of  our  reflective  faculty,  and  in  which 
he  would  lay  the  basis  of  the  highest  and  the  truest  philosophy. 

In  mysticism,  however,  as  well  as  in  the  other  systems  I have 
adduced,  there  is  undoubtedly  a mixture  of  truth  and  error.  It  is 
quite  possible,  amidst  the  cold  abstractions  of  reason,  to  lose  sight 
of  that  inward  impulse  which  shows  itself  in  the  flashes  of  genius. 


INTRODUCTION. 


59 


in  the  spontaneous  efforts  of  the  imagination,  and  in  the  ardent 
aspirations  of  man’s  religious  faculty.  Every  part  of  our  intel- 
lectual life,  we  must  remember,  develops  itself  in  its  free  and  spon- 
taneous, as  well  as  it  does  in  its  conscious  and  reflective  move-  ^ 
ments ; and  often  the  efforts  of  our  spontaneous  being  have  in  them 
greater  freshness  and  vigor  than  those  of  our  calmer  and  more  re- 
flective. The  benefit,  then,  which  we  owe  to  mysticism  is,  that  it 
recalls  our  attention  again  and  again  to  the  spontaneous  working 
of  our  highest  facultiesT~tKat  it  points~out  to  us  the  lofty  emotions 
to  which  this  working  often  gives  rise  ; that  it  withdraws  us  from 
absorbing  our  whole  attention  in  logical  forms  and  processes,  and 
points  out  to  us  the  real  and  veritable  existence  of  a spiritual  world 
with  which  we  are  all  closely  connected,  to  whose  laws  we  are  all 
subjected,  and  without  which  our  higher  reason,  our  instinctive 
faith,  and  our  fondest  aspirations,  would  be  mockery  and  delusion. 
On  the  other  hand,  mysticism  is  perhaps  the  readiest  of  all  philos- 
ophies to  fall  into  abuse,  and  to  run  into  endless  extravagances. 
Once  let  the  enthusiastic  element  absorb  the  reflective,  or  an  im- 
plicit faith  be  reposed  in  our  inner  sensibility,  and  no  bounds  are 
sufficient  to  mark  out  the  delusions  to  which  we  become  subject, 
and  the  wild  extravagances  to  which  the  mind  will  resign  itself. 
Once  establish  the  principle,  that  implicit  credence  must  be  given 
to  feelmg^  in  its  varied  impulses,  and  every  strong  inward  sugges- 
tion may  become  the  whispering  of  some  celestial  spirit ; every 
vivid  idea  the  appearance  of  some  vision  from  another  world  ; and 
the  natural  impulses  of  an  energetic  soul,  become  soon  transformed 
into  the  ravings  of  religious  fanaticism.  Such  is  mysticism  in  its 
nature  and  origin,  and  such  also  both  in  its  healthy  and  its  delete- 
rious results.* 

In  reviewing  the  progress  of  these  four  philosophical  tendencies, 
we  cannot  fail  to  make  the  observation,  that  they  all  owe  their  origin 
to  some  correct  idea,  and  all  succeed  in  eliciting  some  fragments 
of  truth  that  would  otherwise,  in  all  probability,  have  been  either 
neglected  or  concealed.  This  consideration  lies  at  the  foundation 
of  another  school  of  philosophy  which  may  follow  one  or  other  of 
these  four  directions,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  a certain  extent ; but 

* The  reader  who  wishes  to  see  these  four  tendencies  of  the  philosophic  spirit  more 
fully  explained  and  proved  by  an  appeal  to  the  testimony  of  the  universal  history 
of  philosophy,  will  find  the  whole  question  admirably  treated  in  Victor  Cousin’s 
“ Cours  de  I’Histoire  de  la  Philosophie,”  Lectures  iv.  to  xii.  The  only  imperfection  we 
would  point  out  in  his  mode  of  treating  the  subject  is,  that  he  has  represented  the  four 
tendencies  too  much  as  four  distinct  philosophies  existing  in  every  age,  rather  than  as 
so  many  prevailing  influences  or  predispositions. 


60 


INTRODUCTION. 


which,  seeing  in  them  all  only  the  different  movements  of  the 
human  reason  as  it  progresses  towards  the  unfolding  of  truth, 
rejects  in  each  one  that  which  may  appear  extravagant  or  incor- 
rect, and  huilds  up  the  residuum  of  truth,  from  whatever  source 
derived,  into  a new  and  more  complete  system.  Such  is  briefly 
the  birth  and  the  aim  of  Eclecticism  ; a school  of  philosophy  which, 
though  modest  in  its  pretensions,  and  tolerant  in  its  tone,  is  singu- 
larly extensive  in  its  researches  and  safe  in  its  results. 

With  this  brief  review  of  the  philosophical  tendencies  which 
obtain  in  our  own  age,  as  they  have  more  or  less  in  every  other, 
we  shall  be  better  enabled  to  observe  and  to  estimate  their  various 
manifestations  in  the  last  two  or  three  centuries,  and  better  pre- 
pared to  mark  generally  the  characteristics  and  tendencies  of 
speculative  philosophy  in  these  our  days. 


0 


/ 


PART  I. 


ON  THE  PROXIMATE  SOURCES  OF  THE  PHILOS- 
OPHY OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ON  THE  PROGRESS  OP  SENSATIONALISM  FROM  THE  PERIOD 
OP  BACON  TO  THE  COMMENCEMENT  OP  THE 
NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


Sect.  J. — Commencement  of  Modern  Philosophy.  Bacon  and 

Hobbes. 

In  commencing  our  brief  review  of  the  sources  from  which  the 
Philosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  been  drawn,  with  the 
age  of  Bacon,  we  are,  in.  fact,  beginning  almost  at  the  very  first 
dawn  of  the  modern  philosophical  spirit.  There  are  only  two 
great  eras  in  the  history  of  metaphysics,  the  ancient  and  the  mod- 
ern ; whatever  attempts  may  seem  not  exactly  to  belong  to  either 
of  these,  consist  only  of  the  few  steps  which  were  necessary  to  aid 
the  transition  from  the  one  to  the  other.  The  scholastic  age  pro- 
duced nothing  more  than  a renewal,  with  some  peculiar  modifica- 
tions, of  ancient  philosophy.  That  this  was  really  the  case,  is 
evident  from  the  spirit  it  evinced, — the  objects  it  aimed  at, — the 
authority  to  which  it  delighted  to  bow.  Before  any  new  philoso- 
phy could  be  originated,  it  was  necessary  that  this  whole  system, 
which  had  held  the  minds  of  men  for  so  many  centuries  in  its 
grasp,  should  be  combated,  and  in  some  measure  overthrown ; that 
the  fetters,  which  had  been  imposed  upon  the  human  reason,  should 
be  gradually  broken  off,  and  freedom  thus  given  it  to  breathe  a more 
genial  intellectual  atmosphere.  This  necessity  began  to  be  practi- 
cally realized  about  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  during 
the  sixteenth  was  vigorously  acted  up  to.  Scholasticism  (derived 
almost  entirely  from  one  branch  of  the  ancient  philosophy,  namely, 
the  Peripatetic)  was  combated  during  that  period,  with  weapons 


G2 


MODERN  FtllLOSOPHY. 


derived  from  another  and  opposite  school — that  of  the  old  Acade- 
111)'- , so  that  the  ancient  contest  between  Aristotle  and  Plato  was 
virtually  revived  upon  the  arena  of  modern  history. 

The  whole  of  the  period,  indeed,  which  intervened  between  the 
crumbling  of  the  edifice  erected  by  the  industry  of  the  schoolmen, 
and  the  age  of  Bacon,  was  chiefly  occupied  with  the  revival  and 
the  further  modification  of  the  most  celebrated  systems  of  the 
ancient  world.  The  authority  of  Aristotle  being  undermined,  and 
no  modern  school  having  as  yet  appeared,  the  only  resource  left 
was  to  return  to  those  other  masters  of  antiquity  who  had  been 
comparatively  neglected,  and  to  attempt  the  reconstruction  of  their 
various  principles  and  reasonings  into  a fresh  form,  better  suited  to 
the  altered  cast  and  spirit  of  the  age.  Of  all  these  ancient  mas- 
ters, Plato,  of  course,  stood  first  and  foremost,  and  whatever  attempts 
were  made  either  to  introduce  a more  ideal  philosophy  than  that  of 
the  schools,  or  to  advance  any  of  those  numerous  systems  of  theos- 
ophy and  magic  which  abounded  in  the  twilight  of  European  civili- 
zation, ostensibly  grounded  themselves  upon  the  authority  of  the  old 
Academy.*  Some  there  were  who,  less  intense  in  their  opposition 
to  the  scholastic  method,  revived  the  Peripatetic  philosophy  in  its 
ancient  and  original  form  ;f  and  even  the  doctrine  of  the  Stoics 
made  a temporary  reappearance  on  the  stage,  although  it  played 
but  a brief  and  subordinate  part.J 

Whilst  these  ancient  doctrines  were  being  thus  recalled  from 
their  long  and  silent  repose,  there  began  to  appear,  in  conjunction 
with  them,  some  few  attempts  at  independent  thinking.  Peter 
Ramus  made  a bold  endeavor  to  recast  the  whole  art  and  science 
of  logic  ; Telesius  and  Campanella  to  reform  the  study  of  physical 
science ; while  Francis  Patritius  and  Giordano  Bruno  ventured  so 
far  as  to  offer  to  the  world  some  new  and  independent  theories  on 
subjects  more  strictly  metaphysical.§  All  these  attempts,  however, 
were  extremely  indefinite. — There  was  no  fixed  point  of  departure 
from  which  philosophic  investigation  should  take  its  rise,  no  settled 

* The  Platonic  philosophy  was  patronized  by  the  Medicis  at  Florence,  as  being  more 
favorable  to  the  cultivation  of  elegant  literature  than  the  jargon  of  the  Aristotelian 
school.  Nicolaus  Cusanus,  Marsilius  Ficinus,  and  John  Picus  of  Mirandula,  were 
lunongst  the  foremost  of  these  new  Platonics,  On  these,  see  Hallam’s  “ Introduction  to 
the  Literature  of  Europe,”  vol.  i.  See  also  Tennemann’s  “ Grundriss,”  p.  305,  ei  seq. 

+ Peter  Pomponatius  was  the  head  of  the  new  Peripatetics  in  Italy,  and  Mefancthon, 
the  Reformer,  in  Germany.  * 

± Lipsius  and  Heinsius  advocated  a modification  of  the  Stoical  philosophy. 

\ The  English  reader  will  find  some  account  of  these  in  Enfield’s  abridgment 
of  Brucker.  For  a far  better  account  see  Hallam’s  “ Introduction  to  the  Literature  of 
Europe,”  vol.  ii.  chap.  3.  A life  of  Bruno  has  just  appeared  in  France. 


BACON  AND  HOBBES. 


63 


objects  at  which  it  should  aim,  and  no  definite  method  according 
to  which  it  should  be  conducted.  Even  astronomy  itself,  although 
it  made  some  advances  owing  to  the  fresh  stimulus  then  given  to 
mathematical  studies,  yet  was  crippled  in  its  progress  for  want  of 
employing  the  true  principles  by  which  all  physical  investigations 
ought  to  be  carried  on.  There  needed  some  master  mind  who 
should  be  daring  enough  to  trample  upon  the  sacredness  of  ancient 
and  established  authority,  acute  enough  to  show  the  true  objects 
of  all  philosophy,  and  powerful  enough  to  furnish  a new  organum, 
and  dig,  as  it  were,  a new  channel,  in  which  the  philosophic  spirit 
of  the  world  should  flow. 

Two  such  minds  arose,  both  of  gigantic  powers  and  almost  in-  i 
exhaustible  resources.  Each  of  them  applied  his  whole  strength  1 
to  aid  the  w'ork  of  reformation ; and  their  combined  influence  suc- 
ceeded in  turning  the  stream  of  all  scientific  investigation  into  the 
two  main  directions,  which  it  has  been  pursuing  more  or  less  ever 
since.  The  first  of  these  was  Lord  Bacon ; the  next  in  the  order, 
both  of  time  and  influence,  was  Descartes  ; the  two  together  must, 
therefore,  be  regarded  as  forming  the  epoch  which  gave  at  once  a 
final  close  to  the  ancient  philosophy,  and  its  first  -decided  form  to 
the  new.  Different  as  were  the  minds  of  these  two  great  men  in 
themselves,  different  as  were  their  respective  labors,  and  opposite 
as  were,  in  many  respects,  the  results  at  which  they  arrived,  yet 
the  writings  of  both  were  marked  by  one  and  the  same  great  char- 
acteristic, namely,  by  the  spirit  of  method.  The  most  important 
works  of  Bacon,  it  will  be  remembered,  were  the  “ Instauratio 
Magna,”  and  the  “Novum  Organum ;”ithose  of  Descartes  were  | fr 
his  “ Dissertatio  de  Methodo,”  and  his  “ Meditationes  de  Prima.  j'-  ^ 
Philosophia.”  The  fruitlessness  of  the  ancient  logic,  as  an  in- 
i strument  of  discovery,  had  been  abundantly  proved  by  past  ex- 
^ j perience,  and  the  watchword  which  these  two  great  thinkers  of 
\ their  age  both  uttered,  and  which  has  been  ever  since  the  guiding 
’ principle  of  all  philosophy,  was — analysis.  Bacon,  who  gave  his 
attention  chiefly  to  the  direction  and  improvement  of  physical 
science,  taught  to  analyze  nature,  while  Descartes,  who  aimed  j 
rather  at  grounding  all  human  knowledge  upon  its  ultimate  princi- 
ples, instructed  how  to  analyze  thought.  All  modern  philosophy, 
therefore,  whether  it  arise  from  the  Baconian  or  the  Cartesian  - 
point  of  view,  bears  upon  it  the  broad  outline  of  the  analytic  ' 
method.  It  matters  not  whether  it  be  the  outer  or  the  inner  world 
to  which  its  investigations  apply,  in  each  case  it  teaches  us  to  ob- 


■Oh 


64 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


serve  and  analyze  facts,  to  collect  instances,  and  upon  such  obser- 
vation to  ground  our  knowledge  of  laws  and  principles.  In  this 
alone  consists  the  unity  of  modern  science,  and  from  this  arises  its 
broad  distinction  from  that  of  the  ancient  world.  Every  natural 
philosopher  since  Bacon  has  grounded  his  success  upon  an  induc- 
tion of  the  facts  of  the  outward  world ; and  every  metaphysician, 
since  Descartes,  has  advanced  onwards  in  his  department  of  knowl- 
edge by  analyzing  the  facts  of  our  inward  consciousness. 

It  might,  perhaps,  be  supposed  that  this  fundamental  unity  of 
procedure  ought  to  have  given  similar  results,  but  such  was  far 
from  being  the  case.  Bacon,  by  concentrating  his  chief  attention 
upon  nature,  and  applying  his  new  method  or  organum  mainly  to 
its  interpretation,  gave  to  his  philosophy  an  empirical  tendency, 
which  by  degrees  conferred  far  too  exclusive  a value  upon  out- 
ward observation,  and  led  his  followers  to  underrate  the  importance 
of  abstract  ideas,  and  their  due  explication,  as  a means  of  advan- 
cing the  interests  of  true  philosophy  : in  a word,  he  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  modern  sensationalism.  Descartes,  looking  more  deeply 
beneath  the  phenomenal  world,  and  with  an  intense  power  of  re- 
flection, gazing  upon  the  mind  itself  as  the  instrument  and  medium 
by  which  all  truth  is  perceived,  gave  a new  impetus  to  the  ration- 
alistic method  of  philosophizing,  and  thus  laid  the  basis  of  the 
modern  idealism.  The  great  question  which  both  sought  to  inves- 
tigate, was  that  of  the  true  ground  and  source  of  human  knowl- 
edge ; they  both  alike  aimed  at  bringing  system  and  unity  into  the 
varied  and  disjointed  learning  of  their  age ; they  both  pointed  out 
a “ prima  philosophia”  from  which  all  science  must  take  its  rise ; 
but,  with  the  same  objects  in  view,  they  differed  widely  in  their 
conclusions.  The  English  philosopher  regarded  experience  as  the 
ultimate  basis  on  w'hich  the  superstructure  of  our  knowledge  must 
rest,  while  the  French  reformer  traced  it  all  back  to  those  innate 
ideas  and  principles  which,  he  affirmed,  we  have  prior  to,  and  in- 
dependent of,  any  experience  whatever.  In  a future  chapter  we 
shall  follow  the  results  of  Cartesianisra  to  the  nineteenth  century ; 
our  present  object  is,  to  trace  Bacon’s  experimental  philosophy 
down  to  the  same  period,  so  far  as  it  has  home  upon  what  are 
more  strictlij  called  metaphysical  investigations. 

And,  first,  we  may  remark  that  the  influence  of  Bacon  upon  the 
progress  of  speculative  philosophy  was  for  the  most  part  indirect. 
A few  pages  comparatively,  w'ould  suffice  to  contain  everything  he 
wrote  of  a strictly  metaphysical  character.  The  spirit  of  his  whole 


BACON  ANB  HOBBES. 


65 


philosophy,  however,  was  such  as  could  not  fail  to  leave  an  indeli- 
ble impression  upon  every  subject  lying  within  the  range  of  human 
research.  In  his  early  life.  Bacon  had  studied  the  Aristotelian 
philosophy  as  it  was  then  taught  in  the  “schools,”  and  appears, 
while  yet  comparatively  young  in  years,  not  only  to  have  become 
convinced  of  its  uselessness  as  a method  of  discovery,  but  also  to 
have  laid  the  basis  of  his  new  organon.  From  these  high  thoughts 
he  emerged  into  the  toils  of  active  duty,  and  devoted  the  extraor- 
dinary powers  with  which  he  was  endowed  to  the  service  of  his 
country  in  the  department  of  law  and  government.  A life  thus 
spent  could  not  but  give  a strong  practical  turn  to  his  mind,  and  must 
have  aided  in  lending  to  his  philosophy  a tone,  very  different  from 
that  which  would  have  resulted  from  so  many  years  of  calm  and 
solitary  meditation.  Retiring  as  he  did  from  the  court  and  the 
senate-house  into  his  study,  from  the  busy  scenes  of  political  life  to 
the  pursuit  of  philosophical  truth,  he  could  hardly  fail  of  becoming 
more  and  more  convinced  of  the  practical  uselessness  of  the  scho- 
astic  logic  to  a mind  that  requires  sagacity  in  seizing  analogies, 
and  needs  experience  in  collecting  facts.  He  saw  that  in  ordinary 
cases,  where  we  have  to  deal  with  mankind,  the  keenest  logic  could 
not  supply  the  place  of  accurate  observation  ; and  proceeded,  with 
that  comprehensiveness  of  mind  for  which  he  was  remarkable,  to 
generalize  his  views,  until  he  evolved  the  conclusion,  that  pure  sci- 
entific knowledge,  as  well  as  all  other  of  a more  ordinary  and 
practical  kind,  must  take  its  start  from  a diligent  observation  of 
facts. 

The  praise  of  the  “ Inductive  method”  is  now  in  every  one’s 
mouth — ^we  naturally  ask,  therefore,  what  is  this  method,  as  Bacon 
left  it  ? That  it  cannot  consist  simply  in  observing  a number  of 
particulars,  and  then  predicating  any  quality,  which  we  observe  in 
each,  of  the  whole  class,  is  evident ; for  this  would  make  a very 
small  extension  to  our  knowledge  of  nature,  where  but  few  partic- 
ulars, comparatively  speaking,  are  accessible.  There  must  be  a 
fundamental  conviction  lying  at  the  base  of  all  our  investigation  of 
natural  phenomena,  that  under  similar  circumstances  the  same  an- 
tecedents will  be  followed  by  the  same  consequents ; so  that  from  a 
few  observations  a wide  conclusion  can  be  drawn.  But  a mere 
observation  of  facts,  even  grounded  upon  this  conviction  of  the 
uniformity  of  nature’s  laws,  Bacon  still  thought  insufficient ; for  it 
had  in  truth  been  practised  centuries  before  he  announced  the 
“Novum  Organum.”  His  great  object  was,  first,  to  remove  out 


66 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  the  road  the  obstacles  which  tended  to  impede  the  progress  of 
science ; and  then  so  to  systematize  the  rules  and  principles  of  in- 
duction, as  to  supersede  the  guesses  of  experience,  and  arrive  by  a 
sure  and  rapid  road  at  the  discovery  of  truth.  To  accomplish  this, 
says  Bacon,  we  must  first  collect  a natural  history  ; that  is,  what- 
ever be  the  subject  we  intend  to  investigate,  we  must  first  set  down 
all  the  facts  we  can  gain  upon  it.  Having  done  this  we  must  clas- 
sify these  into  tables,  so  that  we  may  expunge  those  which  are  use- 
less to  the  question,  and  gather  the  “ vintage”  of  those  which  are 
really  significant.  These  significant  facts  are  further  to  be  scru- 
tinized with  respect  to  their  relative  value  and  import,  and  to  be 
illustrated,  wherever  it  is  practicable,  by  actual  experiments.  This 
being  done,  the  law  of  the  phenomena  or  “ latens  processus,”  if 
causes  be  the  object  of  our  search,  and  the  form  or  “ latens  schem- 
atismus,”  if  the  constitution  of  bodies  be  our  search,  will  at  once 
begin  to  appear.  Thus  our  knowledge  must  rise  from  the  bare 
facts,  as  they  are  presented  to  the  senses,  upwards,  through  different 
degrees  of  generalization,  till  the  most  general  form  thereof  is  as- 
certained, and  the  top  stone  of  the  pyramid  laid  upon  it.* 

This,  then,  being  in  brief  the  Baconian  method,  in  what  light  are 
we  to  estimate  it  ? Its  many  excellencies  all  have  admitted  to  be 
unquestionable.  Its  primary  care  to  clear  away  prejudices,f  and 
make  silence  within  in  order  to  listen  for  truth,  was  conceived  in 
the  loftiest  spirit  of  sound  wisdom.  Its  constant  inculcation  of  ob- 
servation and  experiment  overturned  all  those  false  attempts  at 
construing  nature  on  a priori  principles,  which  had  rendered  the 
vastest  exertions  of  many  mighty  minds  entirely  nugatory.  Its  in- 
finite effort  to  scrutinize  facts,  and  weigh  their  relative  value,  shows 
us  how  jealously  we  are  to  watch  the  accuracy  of  all  our  actual 
observations,  and  how  patiently  estimate  their  signification ; while 
its  recommendation  to  investigate  the  more  occult  processes  and 
forms  of  things,  urges  us  on  to  study  nature  even  beyond  the  limits 


* Bacon’s  first  work  was  “ The  Advancement  of  Learning.”  In  this  his  ideas 
respecting  the  reform  of  philosophy  were  somewhat  clearly  sketched  out.  He  next 
announced  the  “ Instauratio  Magna,”  the  plan  of  which,  in  six  parts,  may  be  said  to 
include  all  his  philosophical  writings.  In  the  treatise  “ De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,” 
(an  expansion  of  the  “ Advancement,”)  we  have  a complete  review  of  the  different 
branches  of  human  knowledge,  as  introductory  to  the  whole  system.  In  the  “ Novum 
Organum,”  or  second  part,  we  have  the  method  of  scientific  investigation  propounded. 
The  third  part  of  the  plan  was  the  “ Sylva  Sylvarum,”  or  Natural  History,  published 
posthumously,  which  was  to  supply  facts.  The  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  parts,  termed 
respectively  " Scala  Intellectus,”  “ Anticipationes  Philosophice,”  and  “ Philosophia 
Secunda,”  are  wanting.  See  his  “ Distributio  Operis,”  placed  at  the  beginning  of  his 
philosophical  writings.  Vol.  vii.  of  his  Works,  London,  Baynes,  1824. 

■(•  Idola — false  appearances  not  Idols.  Vid.  Hallam,  vol.  ii.  p.  408,  &c. 


BACON  AND  HOBBES. 


67 


to  which  mere  outward  observation  can  reach.  But,  perhaps,  the 
most  valuable  and  original  part  of  Bacon’s  method,  is  that  in  which 
he  points  out  the  necessity  of  a gradual  ascent  in  the  process  of 
generalization,  in  order  that  we  may  arrive,  at  length,  at  the  highest 
point  of  human  research.  “ Duae  viae  sunt,”  such  are  his  own  words, 
“ atque  esse  possunt  ad  inquirendam  et  inveniendam  veritatem.  Al- 
tera a sensu  et  particularibus  advolat  ad  axiomata  maxime  generalia, 
atque  ex  iis  principiis  eorumque  immota  veritate  judicat,  et  invenit 
axiomata  media ; atque  haec  via  in  usu  est.  Altera  a sensu  et  par- 
ticularibus excitat  axiomata  ascendendo  continenter  et  gradatim, 
ut  ultimo  loco  perveniatur  ad  maxime  generalia,  quae  via  vera  est 
sed  intentata.”  One  of  the  main  defects  in  the  study  of  natural 
philosophy,  previous  to  Bacon,  was  the  constant  effort  to  rise  from 
a particular  facts  to  the  highest  generalizations.  These  efforts 
Bacon  terms  “ anticipationes  naturae,”  and  points  out  as  above  the 
existence  of  these  “ axiomata  media,”  which  must  always  serve  as 
stepping-stones  to  the  reason  in  its  arduous  path  to  the  summit  of 
the  pyramid.* 

Such  are  the  excellencies  of  Bacon’s  method  ; but  it  has  also  its 
defects.  First  of  all,  there  can  be  little  doubt  but  that  Bacon  over- 
estimated the  real  value  of  his  new  organum,  as  it  regards  the  dis- 
covery of  truth.  He  thought  it  so  powerful  an  instrument  as  al- 
most to  supersede  the  value  of  philosophical  genius,  and  to  reduce 
all  minds  nearly  to  the  same  level. f In  this  he  certainly  under- 
rated the  necessity  of  that  wondrous  sagacity  (as  displayed  in 
Newton)  which  seizes  analogies,  and  puts  us,  by  a kind  of  intuitive 
foresight,  on  the  right  road  for  the  true  interpretation  of  facts.  J 
This  led  him  again  to  lay  more  stress  upon  the  arrangement  of 
the  facts  themselves,  than  upon  the  elucidation  of  those  rational 
conceptions  by  which  alone  they  can  be  explained  and  generalized. 
It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  this  defect  might  have  been  in 
great  measure  corrected,  had  he  completed  the  plan  marked  out  in 
the  last  three  parts  of  the  “ Instauratio  Magna.”  Another  main 
defect  in  the  Baconian  system  was,  its  almost  entire  neglect  of 
deduction'.  It  did  not  take  into  consideration,  that  a sagacious 
mind  may  often  rise,  all  at  once,  per  saltum,  to  a general  principle, 
and  then  reason  downwards  so  as  to  deduce  those  “axiomata  me- 
dia,” in  which  our  real  knowledge  mainly  consists.  This  error, 

• Vid.  Whewell’s  “ Philosophy  of  Induction,”  vol.  ii.  p.  395. 

t Nov.  Org.  I.  Aph.  61. 

j Vid.  Mr.  Macaulay’s  article  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  132. 


68 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Mr.  Mill  conjectures  might  have  arisen  from  Bacon’s  ignorance 
and  disparagement  of  mathematical  science.*  Lastly,  the  method 
was  defective,  and  necessarily  so,  in  that  practical  wisdom  which 
results  from  a long  acquaintance  with  the  actual  processes  of  philo- 
sophical research.  The  great  benefit  Bacon  conferred  upon  the 
world  arose  from  the  spirit  of  his  writings  as  a whole — from  the 
admirable  wisdom  which  they  exhibited — and  the  impressive  manner 
in  which  they  inculcated  upon  all,  the  duty  of  repressing  narrow 
prejudices  on  the  one  hand,  and  a too  wide  ambition  on  the  other. 
Added  to  this,  he  saw  distinctly  the  existence  of  the  two  elements 
of  all  human  knowledge — the  Sensational  and  the  Ideal,  and  per- 
ceived that  science  can  only  be  constructed  by  the  due  combination 
of  them  both  ; the  facts  given  by  the  one  being  interpreted  through 
the  conceptions  furnished  by  the  other.  To  Bacon,  therefore,  we 
must  attribute  the  honor  of  having  first  sketched  out  the  true  order 
of  philosophical  research,  and  foreseen  the  splendid  results  which 
its  application  has  educed  in  the  increase  of  all  the  comforts  and 
conveniences  of  human  life,  as  well  as  in  the  general  progression 
afforded  by  it  to  the  moral  and  intellectual  culture  of  mankind.  It 
was  under  the  deep  impression  of  the  truth  and  power  of  his  views, 
that  he  announced  them  as  the  “ great  instauration”  which  was  to 
introduce  a new  era  into  the  intellectual  history  of  the  world. 

Our  main  object,  however,  is  now  to  see  what  was  the  influence 
which  Bacon  exerted  upon  the  progress  of  speculative  philosophy. 
And  it  might  be  asked,  first  of  all,  did  Bacon  intend  his  method  to 
be  applicable  to  the  moral  as  well  as  the  physical  sciences  ? This 
question,  there  can  be  little  doubt,  must  be  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative ; for  not  only  does  he  include  logic,  ethics,  politics,  and  met- 
aphysics in  his  work  “ De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,”  as  branches 
open  to  the  renewed  investigation  of  the  human  mind  ; but  he  has 
some  direct  passages  which  touch  upon  the  very  point  in  question. 
It  is  only  necessary  to  quote  the  following,  which  we  translate  from 
the  first  book  of  the  “Novum  Organum.”  “Perhaps  any  one,”  he 
says,  “ might  doubt,  rather  than  object,  whether  we  intend  to  per- 
fect by  our  method,  not  only  natural  philosophy,  but  also  the  other 
sciences,  such  as  Logic,  Ethics,  and  politics.  We  reply,  that  we 
understand  the  things  we  have  spoken  to  he  applicable  to  them  all; 
and  just  as  the  common  logic,  which  governs  things  by  the  syllo- 
gism, not  only  pertains  to  the  natural  but  to  all  the  sciences,  so 
also  ours,  which  proceeds  by  induction,  embraces  them  all  likewise. 

* See  this  point  admirably  discussed  in  Mill’s  “ Logic,”  vol,  ii.  p.  524,  et  seg. 


BACON  AND  HOBBES. 


69 


For  we  may  construct  a history  and  tables  of  discovery  concerning 
anger,  fear,  shame,  and  the  like,  just  as  we  do  concerning  the 
scenes  of  civil  life  ; nor  less  concerning  the  mental  operations  of 
memory,  composition,  division,  judgment,  and  the  rest,  than  about 
cold,  or  heat,  or  light,  or  vegetation,  and  the  like.” 

Here,  then,  is  sufficient  evidence  that  Bacon  did  not  intend  to 
exclude  these  subjects  from  the  sweep  of  his  method.  At  the  same 
time,  it  is  no  less  evident  that  he  apphed  his  principles  to  psychological 
investigations  with  great  reserve,  and  even  timidity.  For,  imme- 
diately after  the  passage  just  quoted,  he  says, — “ Our  mode  of  dis- 
covery, by  means  of  a prepared  and  arranged  history,  does  not  aim 
so  much  at  the  movements  and  operations  of  mind,  like  the  com- 
mon logic,  but  rather  at  the  nature  of  things ; we  so  train  the 
mind  that  it  may  apply  itself  by  apt  methods  to  the  nature  of  things.” 
There  are  other  passages,  moreover,  in  which  Bacon  seems  abso- 
lutely to  have  distrusted  his  own  method  when  applied  to  mental 
philosophy.  “ I hold,”  he  remarks,  in  his  “ Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing,” “ that  this  knowledge  must,  in  the  end,  be  bounded  by  religion, 
else  it  will  be  subject  to  deceit  and  delusion.”  And  again,  still 
more  explicitly,  he  remarks, — “ Mens  humana  si  agat  in  materiam, 
naturam  rerum,  et  opera  Dei  contemplando,  pro  modo  naturae  ope- 
ratur,  atque  ab  ea  determinatur ; si  ipsa  in  se  vertitur,  tanquam 
aranea  texens  telam,  turn  demum  indeterminata  est,  et  parit  telas 
quasdam  doctrinae,  tenuitate  fili,  operisque  mirabiles,  sed  quoad 
usum  frivolas  et  inanes.”  Had  he  sought  to  break  through  the 
thin  webs  of  the  scholastic  philosophy  in  this,  as  he  did  in  so  many 
other  points,  he  might  have  proved  here  also,  not  like  the  spider, 
but  like  the  silkworm,  that  weaves  from  within  a web  of  excellent 
utility  and  mai’vellous  beauty. 

To  estimate,  however,  the  influence  of  Bacon  upon  the  progi’ess 
of  speculative  philosophy,  we  must  not  only  consider  the  adapta- 
tion of  his  method  to  elucidate  and  extend  it,  but  gather  up  some 
of  his  own  direct  remarks  upon  metaphysical  questions.  The  third 
book  of  the  treatise  “De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,”  gives  us  ample 
data  on  which  to  ground  our  opinion  of  Bacon’s  views  respecting 
these  more  abstract  subjects.  It  appears  from  this  portion  of  his 
plan,  that  Bacon  by  no  means  wished  to  confine  his  philosophy  to 
mere  phenomena,  but  affirmed  that  it  should  be  our  constant  en- 
deavor to  grasp  the  very  forms  of  things  ; i.  e.  that  we  should  at- 
tempt to  comprehend  the  mode  of  their  existence,  and  the  laws  of 
their  secret  operation.  He  compares  knowledge  to  a pyramid,  the 


70 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


base  of  which  consists  of  particular  facts,  the  vertex  of  which  is 
the  link  between  the  creation  and  the  Creator,  while  the  stage  im- 
mediately below  the  vertex,  is  that  branch  of  science  which  comes 
distinctly  within  the  idea  of  metaphysics.  Let  those  who  claim 
Bacon  as  the  apostle  of  positivism,  give  us  an  interpretation  of 
this  whole  division  of  his  system,  in  consistency  with  their  princi- 
ples ; — for  our  part  we  look  upon  Bacon  as  having  been  much  too 
far-sighted  to  describe  so  narrow  a circle,  as  our  modern  naturalists 
do,  within  which  to  confine  the  excursions  of  the  human  reason. 
At  the  same  time  it  must  be  confessed,  that  a very  inconsiderable 
amount  of  his  attention  was  given  to  these  higher  questions,  that 
the  doctrine  of  final  causes  was  depreciated,  and  that  the  whole 
framework  of  his  Organum  was  far  more  adapted  to  the  investiga- 
tions of  physical  than  of  metaphysical  science.  The  great  want 
of  the  age  in  which  he  lived  was  unquestionably  a knowledge  of 
facts,  and,  therefore,  it  was  to  this  point  that  he  had  directed  his 
chief  attention.  When,  however,  we  read  what  he  has  written 
respecting  metaphysical  investigations,  we  may  easily  suppose,  that 
had  he  lived  to  complete  the  great  scheme  of  his  Instauratio  Magna, 
this  ideal  portion  of  his  philosophy  would  have  been  far  more  fully 
developed. 

Regarding,  then,  the  Baconian  philosophy  as  it  now  stands,  we 
may  sum  up  in  few  words  the  influence  it  was  calculated  to  exert. 
First,  the  authority  of  the  master  himself  led  to  the  very  sparing 
application  of  his  method  to  psychological  investigations,  without, 
however,  excluding  them  altogether.  But,  secondly,  the  recom- 
mendation to  search  into  the  forms  of  things,  kept  alive  the  belief 
in  the  importance  of  metaphysical  analysis ; although,  at  the  same 
time,  it  was  thrown  into  the  background,  by  the  vastly  preponde- 
rating stress  which  was  laid  upon  purely  experimental  processes. 
Whilst,  therefore,  all  the  branches  of  human  knowledge  were  bene- 
fited by  the  eminently  wise  and  practical  spirit  that  pervaded  his 
writings,  yet  their  final  result  was  to  elevate  natural  philosophy 
above  every  other  department ; to  place  the  empirical  element  in 
a too  prominent  position,  and  thus  to  give  a clear  ultimate  tendency 
in  favor  of  sensationalism.* 

♦ It  is  very  interesting,  and  somewhat  curious,  to  read  the  different  comments  which 
many  men  of  the  first  ability  have  made  upon  Bacon’s  writings.  In  the  third  volume 
of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  there  is  a somewhat  remarkable  discussion  carried  on 
between  Dugald  Stewart  and  the  then  Editor,  as  to  the  applicability  of  Bacon’s  method 
to  the  moral  sciences.  Stewart’s  defence  of  Bacon,  in  this  respect,  may  be  seen  also  in 
the  Preliminary  Dissertation  to  his  “ Philosophical  Essays,”  chap.  ii.  p.  40,  etseq. 

Professor  Playfair,  in  his  Preliminary  Dissertation,  (Encyc.  Met.  Appendix,) 
considers  that  Bacon  ran  too  far  into  the  region  of  metaphysics.  Dr.  Whewell  (Phil 


BACON  AND  HOBBES. 


71 


The  field,  then,  was  now  fairly  open.  The  human  reason  had, 
in  the  person  of  Bacon,  asserted  for  the  department  of  science  its 
independence  of  all  former  authority  ; the  search  after  the  founda- 
tions of  truth  was  commenced  by  a master  mind ; but  with  this  the 
tendency  was  already  manifest  to  fall  back  upon  the  experience  of 
our  senses  as  the  ultimate  basis  of  the  whole.  It  was  not  the  in- 
tention of  Bacon,  indeed,  as  we  have  seen,  to  exclude  all  metaphys- 
ical conceptions,  nor  would  he  have  sanctioned  the  consequences 
which  were  soon  drawn  from  his  decided  leaning  to  the  objective  ; 
but  the  influence  which  his  writings  were  capable  of  producing 
upon  the  progress  of  mental  and  moral  philosophy,  was  soon  ren- 
dered apparent  in  the  works  of  one  of  his  warmest  friends  and  fol- 
lowers. Hobbes,  who  had  drunk  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  his  mas- 
ter, began  to  philosophize  just  where  he  had  left  off.  The  master 
himself,  looking  far  into  the  distance,  occupied  his  whole  genius  in 
framing  the  method  of  future  research.  Many,  indeed,  were  soon 
found  to  carry  out  this  method  in  the  department  of  physics  to  the 
most  splendid  results ; but  Hobbes  was  the  only  pupil  who  began 
by  applying  it  in  its  most  empirical  character  to  metaphysics, 
morals,  and  politics. 

The  main  features  of  the  philosophy  of  Hobbes  may  be  sketched 
out  in  a very  few  words.  Bacon  had  attached  so  high  an  impor- 
tance to  experience,  that  it  was  regarded  as  the  main,  if  not  the 
only  source  of  our  real  knowledge.  Hobbes  proceeded  to  develop 
this  Baconian  principle  in  such  a manner,  that  he  made  sensation 
the  real  basis  of  every  mental  operation,  the  sole  originator  of  our 
ideas,  the  sole  medium  and  test  of  truth.*  As,  therefore,  we  can 
perceive  through  sensation  only  what  is  material,  he  concluded 
that  matter  is  the  only  reality,  and  that  whatever  exists  to  us  must 
accordingly  be  a part  of  the  material  universe.  The  whole  pro- 
cess of  scientific  investigation  was  thus  reduced  to  the  doctrine  of 
bodies,  beyond  which,  he  maintained,  there  can  be  no  knowledge 

of  Indue.)  shows,  that  while  Bacon  took  hold  upon  both  the  handles  of  science, 
the  Empirical  and  the  Ideal,  yet  he  worked  with  the  former  far  more  energetically  than 
with  the  latter.  Mr.  Macaulay,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  132,  pays  a splendid 
tribute  to  Bacon’s  genius,  but  casts  great  doubts  upon  the  originalilij  of  his  method. 
Mr.  Hallam  defends  both  the  originality  and  utility  of  the  method,  but  thinks  that  he 
fell  into  indistinctness  from  attempting  more  than  he  could  ever  accomplish. — (“  Lit.  of 
Europe,”  vol.  ii.  page  426.)  Mr.  Mill,  in  his  “ System  of  Logic,”  pays  homage  to 
Bacon  as  the  father  of  Induction,  but  shows  that  he  erred  from  want  of  seeing  the  real 
nature  and  uses  of  Deduction. 

The  conclusion  from  the  whole  seems  to  be,  that  the  inductive  system  itself  was 
involved  in  the  spirit  of  the  age ; and  that  Bacon’s  merit  was,  to  bring  it  out  promi- 
nently to  view,  and  encircle  it  by  the  profundity  of  his  practical  wisdom,  and  the 
impressive,  the  almost  prophetic  authority,  of  his  philosophic  style. 

* See  “ Leviathan,”  chap.  i. 


72 


MODERN  rniLOSOPHY. 


whatever,  accessible  to  the  human  mind.  This  knowledge,  how- 
ever, does  not  refer  simply  to  the  existence  of  bodies,  but  also  to 
their  changes,  of  all  which  changes  the  ultimate  principle  is  motion. 
The  doctrine  of  bodies,  therefore,  includes  the  knowledge  of  all 
phenomena  in  relation  to  their  probable  causes  ; and  of  all  possible 
causes  as  known  from  their  observed  effects.  In  other  words,  the 
facts  being  given  by  the  senses,  we  have  to  discover  by  our  reason 
all  the  consequences  which  will  flow  from  them  under  every  va- 
riety of  circumstance.  Such,  according  to  Hobbes,  is  the  proper 
province  and  the  sole  aim  of  true  philosophy. 

But  now  comes  the  chief  peculiarity  of  his  system.  Bodies,  he 
says,  are  divided  into  two  kinds,  natural  bodies  and  political 
bodies.  The  former  comprehend  not  only  the  whole  of  what  we 
term  external  nature,  but  likewise  those  other  existences  which 
we  variously  call  mind,  soul,  or  spirit.  This  first  division  of  phi- 
losophy, therefore,  is  so  explained  as  to  include  the  physical  and 
mathematical  sciences,  Psychology  and  Logic,  besides  a number 
of  subordinate  branches.*' 

In  Physics,  Hobbes  followed  his  illustrious  predecessor,  incul- 
cating generally  the  necessity  of  observation,  and  manifesting  with 
it  a strong  preference  for  the  atomistic  doctrine,  which  he  probably 
owed  to  his  intimacy  with  Gassendi.  On  this  subject,  however,  it 
is  not  our  business  now  to  trespass ; and  it  is,  happily,  of  less  con- 
sequence to  do  so,  because  the  path  of  experimental  philosophy 
was  not  the  one  in  which  our  author  delighted  to  walk ; so  much 
was  this  the  case,  that  he  even  ridiculed  the  Royal  Society  of 
London  for  confining  their  attention  so  much  to  minute  ex- 
periments. 

The  Psychology  of  Hobbes  (in  which,  according  to  his  system, 
the  whole  of  metaphysics  is  included)  is  highly  remarkable,  not  in- 
deed on  account  of  its  intrinsic  value,  but  I'emarkable  when  viewed 
in  connection  with  the  age  at  which  it  was  propounded.  The  mind 
itself  he  viewed  as  wholly  material,  the  phenomena  of  conscious- 
ness being  the  direct  result  of  our  organization.  The  one  great 
and  fundamental  fact  of  mind  is  sensation  :f  which  is  nothing 
more  or  less  than  the  effect  of  material  objects  around  us,  exerted 
by  means  of  pressure  or  impact  upon  that  material  organization 
which  we  term  the  mind. 

* Vid.  the  9th  chap,  of  the  “ Leviathan,”  in  which  we  have  a synoptic  view  of  all 
the  objects  of  philosophical  research,  constructed  on  the  principle  that  science  is 
Ihe  knowledge  nf  consequences. 

t We  have  here  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  school  of  Condillac. 


BACON  AND  HOBBES. 


73 


Sensation,  however,  gives  rise  to  sundry  other  phenomena  of 
consciousness,  which  deserve  particular  attention.  The  move- 
ment of  the  particles  of  matter  (in  which  sensation  consists)  grad- 
ually ceases,  leaving,  indeed,  an  impression  of  the  thing,  but  far 
less  vivid  than  during  the  actual  period  of  impact.  This  “ decay- 
ing sense,”  according  to  Hobbes,  is  Imagination,  (or  conception ;) 
but  if  we  view  it  in  connection  with  the  fact  of  its  being  the  lin- 
gering image  of  something  past,  then  it  is  memory.  Memory  and 
Imagination,  therefore,  are  the  same  things,  only  viewed  from  a 
different  stand-point.*  This  leads  to  some  further  remarks  in 
which  he  develops  the  doctrine  of  the  association  of  Ideas. f 

The  next  great  phenomenon,  upon  which  Hobbes  lays  amazing 
stress,  is  that  of  Language.  So  high  an  importance  does  he  attach 
to  words,  that  but  for  them  he  does  not  conceive  that  men  could 
ever  have  lived  in  society : nay,  reasoning  itself  is  made  so  de- 
pendent upon  terms,  that  he  affirms  the  simplest  mathematical 
truth  to  have  been  absolutely  indiscoverable  without  them.J  This 
leads  at  once  to  Hobbes’  theory  of  knowledge.  Knowledge,  he 
says,  is  of  two  kinds.  Fh’st,  we  gain  direct  impressions  of  external 
things  by  sensation,  and  this  is  “ knowledge  original then  we  use 
words  to  denote  things,  and  form  them  into  propositions.  When 
these  propositions  are  correct,  then  we  have  another  kind  of 
knowledge,  one  which,  though  arising  pi’imarily  from  the  senses, 
is  mediated  by  the  understanding.  Understanding  is  the  faculty 
which  perceives  the  relation  between  words  and  things; — and 
truth  and  falsehood,  therefore,  are  nothing  more  than  the  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  of  words  among  themselves,  being  terms 
applicable  only  to  verbal  propositions. § 

To  Logic,  Hobbes  devoted  a considerable  share  of  attention. 
The  peculiarity  of  his  logical  system  lies  in  the  theory,  that  rea- 
soning is  merely  a numerical  calculation.  As  the  dictum  upon 
which  the  syllogism  depends  turns  simply  upon  the  relation  of  a 
whole  to  its  parts,  Hobbes  considered,  that  adding  and  subtracting 
expressed  the  whole  process  of  ratiocination,  words  being  the  ci- 
phers employed  for  the  purpose.  Error  in  reasoning,  he  showed 
to  arise  only  from  the  want  of  definitions  and  the  wrong  employ- 
ment of  names  : here,  therefore,  as  in  every  other  part  of  his  sys- 
tem, the  extreme  results  of  nominalism  are  unhesitatingly  ap- 
propriated.!! 

* Vid.  Lev.  chap.  ii.  f Lev,  chap.  iii.  Lev.  chap.  iv.  § Lev.  chap.  iv. 

II  Mr.  HaHam  defends  this  theory  of  Hobbes  from  the  attack  of  Stewart — “ Lit.  of 
Europe,”  ii.  p.  474. 


74 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


The  Ethics  of  Hobbes  are  exactly  what  we  should  expect  to 
flow  from  his  sensational  principles  in  metaphysics.  If  every 
thought  is  nothing  more  than  a compound  of  sensations,  then  good 
and  evil  can  be  nothing  more  than  expressions  for  pleasure  and 
pain,  that  is,  for  agreeable  or  disagreeable  sensations.  There  is 
nothing  on  this  theory  simply  and  absolutely  good — nothing  simpl} 
or  absolutely  evil ; they  are  both  relative  to  my  own  individual 
constitution ; and  all  practical  ethics,  therefore,  must  consist  in 
rules  for  the  avoidance  of  the  one,  and  the  attainment  of  the  other.* 
Moreover,  as  it  does  not  depend  upon  ourselves  to  determine  what 
feelings  shall  be  pleasurable  and  what  painful,  it  follows  that  our 
desires  and  volitions  (which  are  the  same  thing,  and  both  forms  of 
sensation)  must  be  irresistibly  determined  by  motives  from  without, 
and  that  man  must,  therefore,  be  absolutely  and  unconditionally  the 
creature  of  necessity. 

This  leads  us  to  the  fundamental  principle  of  Hobbes’  political 
theory.  As  good  and  evil  are  identical  with  pleasure  and  pain,  and 
as  all  men  necessarily  desire  the  one  and  shun  the  other,  so  nature 
herself  dictates  the  right  to  every  man  of  doing  whatever  he  may 
think  conducive  to  these  ends,  and  in  this  manner  of  securing  for 
liimself  all  the  means  of  physical  enjoyment  he  is  able,  at  whatever 
expense  to  his  fellow  man.  The  natural  state  of  man,  therefore, 
must  necessarily  be  a state  of  warfare,  in  which  all  are  struggling 
to  advance  their  own  selfish  interests,  every  man’s  hand  being 
against  his  brother,  and  his  brother’s  against  him.  In  brief,  might 
and  right  are  convertible  terms.  Experience,  however,  teaches 
that  a state  of  universal  warfare  is  a state  of  universal  suffering, 
and  reason  accordingly  dictates  that  we  should  seek  for  peace  as 
the  more  conducive  to  human  happiness.  Hence  the  origin  of 
law,  government,  and  other  social  institutions  which  are  simply 
intended  to  be  antagonists  to  man’s  natural  selfishness.  The  very 
aim  and  purport  of  government  being  simply  to  control  the  will  of 
the  individual,  and  erect  a leviathan  power  to  which  man’s  selfish- 
ness must  bow,  the  end  of  it  is  answered  just  in  proportion  as  the 
power  thus  established  is  mighty  to  coerce  or  restrain.  Hence  an 
absolute  monarchy  is  the  very  perfection  of  human  government, 
and  ought  to  have  the  supreme  decision  over  everything  connected 
with  Law,  Morals,  and  Religion. 

On  the  subject  of  Religion,  Hobbes  laid  himself  open  to  much 

♦ “ Leviathan,”  chap,  vi, 

•f  These  political  principles  were  first  propounded  in  the  Treatises  “ De  Give”  and 
“ Dc  Corpore  Politico.”  They  arc  reproduced,  however,  connectedly  in  the  “ Leviathan.” 


BACON  AND  HOBBES. 


75 


obloquy,  more  especially  as  he  attacked  the  clergy  themselves,  as 
well  as  their  principles,  in  the  most  caustic  and  severe  remarks. 
He  admitted  that  the  natural  desire  we  possess  of  investigating 
causes,  leads  us  to  attribute  some  vast  and  incomprehensible  cause 
to  the  universe  around  us.  As,  however,  we  can  conceive  of 
nothing  which  does  not  present  itself  to  us  as  a sensuous  image,  it 
followed  by  necessity  that  we  can  have  no  real  conception  of  a 
Supreme  Being  ; that  infinity,  in  every  form,  is  a mere  negation. 

We  cannot  avoid  quoting  the  striking  words  with  which  Mr. 
Hallum  sums  up  his  view  of  Hobbism  generally : — “ The  political 
system  of  Hobbes,  like  his  moral  system,  of  which,  in  fact,  it  is 
only  a portion,  sears  up  the  heart.  It  takes  away  the  sense  of 
wrong  that  has  consoled  the  wise  and  good  in  their  dangers,  the  , 
proud  appeal  of  innocence  under  oppression,  like  that  of  Prome 
theus  to  the  elements,  uttered  to  the  witnessing  world,  to  coming 
ages,  to  the  just  ears  of  Heaven.  It  confounds  the  principles  of 
moral  approbation,  the  notions  of  good  and  ill  desert,  in  a servile 
adolatry  of  the  monstrous  leviathan  it  creates,  and,  after  sacrificing 
all  right  at  the  altar  of  power,  denies  to  the  Omnipotent  the  pre- 
rogative of  dictating  the  laws  of  his  own  worship.”* 

Such,  briefly,  was  the  superstructure,  metaphysical,  moral,  and 
political,  which  Hobbes  built  up  with  great  ingenuity  and  ability 
upon  the  Baconian  principles.  Far  would  Bacon  have  been  from 
following  his  pupil  in  these  conclusions  ; but  it  can  hardly  be  dis- 
puted that  the  germ  of  them  was  to  be  found  in  that  empirical 
tendency,  which  runs  more  or  less  through  the  whole  of  his  phi- 
losophy. 

The  genius  which  Hobbes  manifested  both  in  his  style  of  writing, 
and  in  the  severe  logic  by  which  he  built  up  his  whole  system,  from  / 
its  ground-principles  to  its  completion,  no  one  has  ever  denied.  / 
Whilst,  however,  great  ability  was  displayed  in  all  his  writings, 
the  chief  strength  of  his  mind,  especially  in  the  latter  period  of  his 
life,  was  evidently  concentrated  in  his  moral  and  political  works, 
which,  as  they  gained  most  celebrity,  raised  also  the  greatest  oppo- 
sition. The  metaphysics  of  Hobbes,  indeed,  can  by  no  means  be 
considered  brilliant  efforts  of  genius,  nor  can  they  possibly  serve 
as  a basis  upon  which  any  deeply  thinking  mind  would  rest  in  its 
search  after  the  fundamental  principles  of  human  nature.  Yet 
Hobbes  was  undoubtedly,  of  all  the  adherents  of  the  Baconian 

♦ A full  and  beautiful  edition  of  Hobbes’  Works  has  been  published  by  Sir  W. 
Molesworth.  London,  1839. 


76 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


scliool,  tlie  greatest  writer  of  his  age ; for  the  works  of  Gassendi, 
which  now  became  extremely  popular  on  the  Continent  of  Europe, 
can  hardly  be  regarded  as  equal  to  them  in  philosophical  acumen, 
and  there  are  no  others  able  to  dispute  the  field.  In  fact,  the  met- 
aphysician  of  the  Baconian  philosophy  was  yet  to  appear,  before 
the  analytic  method  could  be  said  to  be  strictly  and  successfully 
applied  to  the  science  of  the  human  mind. 

It  was  just  at  this  time,  while  there  was  a perpetual  conflict  of 
opinions  going  on  between  the  school  of  Hobbes  on  the  one  side, 
and  those  who,  like  Cumberland,  were  seeking  to  lay  an  immova- 
ble foundation  for  morality  and  religion  on  the  other,  that  a com- 
pany of  scholars  within  the  University  of  Oxford  were  assembled 
by  chance  at  the  chambers  of  John  Locke.  Finding  themselves 
perplexed  and  baffled  in  their  discussions,  it  occurred  to  Locke  that 
they  were  taking  the  wrong  road  to  arrive  at  truth ; that  the  first 
thing  to  be  done  was  not  to  analyze  things  themselves,  or  doctrines 
themselves,  to  their  simplest  and  most  abstract  forms,  but  to  inves- 
tigate the  faculties  of  the  human  mind,  in  order  to  see  what  objects 
lie  within  its  reach,  and  what  beyond  it.  From  that  day  is  dated 
the  commencement  of  a work  which  was  destined  to  exert  a 
greater  influence  upon  metaphysical  science  than  any  which  had 
appeared  since  the  age  of  Aristotle  and  Plato — I mean  the  “ Essay 
on  the  Human  Understanding.”  We  must  proceed,  therefore,  to 
investigate  succinctly,  but  as  clearly  as  possible,  the  real  tendency 
of  this  immortal  work,  and  to  estimate  the  effect  it  produced  upon 
the  progress  of  speculative  philosophy. 

Section  II. — Criticism,  of  Locke. 

First  of  all,  it  is  abundantly  evident,  that  Locke  is  to  be  placed 
amongst  those  independent  thinkers,  who,  instead  of  grounding 
their  opinions  upon  any  previous  authority,  determine  rather  to 
seek  anew  for  themselves  a solid  foundation  for  human  knowledge 
In  so  doing  he  was  evidently  following,  and  that  boldly,  in  the  track 
which  had  been  previously  opened  by  the  writings  of  Bacon. 
When  the  spirit  of  independent  thinking  is  once  acquired,  there 
are,  of  course,  many  different  directions  which  it  may  follow,  and 
according  to  the  path  first  struck  out,  will  ever  be  the  method  and 
character  of  the  whole  subsequent  investigation. 

As  to  the  plan  which  Locke  proposed  to  follow,  we  are  not  left 


CRITICISM  OP  LOCKE. 


77 


in  doubt  for  a single  moment ; it  is  clear  and  decisive  from  the  first 
page,  and  indeed  is  made  manifest  in  the  very  circumstances  which 
gave  rise  to  his  “ Essay.”  He  affirms  in  the  very  outset,  that  it  is 
of  no  use  to  search  deeply  into  any  subject,  with  the  hope  of  attain- 
ing ultimate  truth,  before  we  have  estimated  aright  the  instrument 
we  have  to  employ ; that  is,  to  use  his  own  words,  “ before  we  have 
found  out  the  powers  of  the  understanding,  the  extent  to  which 
they  reach,  and  the  points  in  which  they  fail.”*  It  is  impossible  to 
indicate  more  clearly  than  this  his  fixed  opinion,  that  the  foundation 
of  all  philosophy  must  be  found  in  Psychology,  and  that  the  start- 
ing-point must  ever  be  an  accurate  observation  and  analysis  of  the 
facts  or  phenomena  of  our  own  consciousness.  Here  we  see  at 
once  that  Locke  had  imbibed  not  only  Bacon’s  independence,  but 
also  the  spirit  of  the  Baconian  method ; that  he  both  avoided  and 
despised  (as  he  tells  us  in  almost  the  first  paragraphf)  the  fruitless 
speculations  of  former  philosophers  to  ascertain  such  things  as 
“the  essence  of  the  mind,”  or  “by  what  motions  of  our  spirits,  or 
changes  in  our  bodies,  we  experience  sensations,”  or  to  solve  any 
similar  question,  the  evidence  of  which  does  not  come  directly 
within  the  range  of  our  own  consciousness ; but  that,  on  the  con- 
trary, he  considered  the  study  of  mind  as  well  as  of  matter  to  have 
reference  simply  to  such  actual  phenomena  as  can  be  observed, 
classified,  and  correctly  reasoned  upon. 

But  then  arises  the  inquiry.  Can  we  observe  the  phenomena  of 
mind  as  surely  as  we  do  those  of  the  material  world,  and  can  we 
equally  regard  them  as  real  objects  of  science  ? That  we  can 
make  observations  upon  the  facts  of  our  inward  life  must  be  evi- 
dent to  every  reflecting  mind;  for  what  do  we  mean  when  we 
speak  of  consciousness,  except  that  there  is  something  or  other 
passing  within  us  of  which  we  are  conscious?  Everything,  there- 
fore, that  passes  through  the  mind,  of  whatever  nature  it  be, 
may  be  regarded  a legitimate  object  of  mental  philosophy  ; it  is  a 
phenomenon,  and  as  such  can  be  set  down  upon  our  roll  as  a real 
and  unquestionable  fact,  equally  valid  with  those  of  any  other 
science. 

Locke  takes  it  for  granted,  accordingly,  as  a thing  resting  on  the 
direct  evidence  of  our  consciousness,  that  man  has  an  understand- 
ing, that  if  his  consciousness  assures  him  of  anything,  it  assures 
him  that  he  does  think,  and,  if  he  think,  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing within,  which  is  the  immediate  object  of  his  thoughts.  Such 
* Essay,  chap.  i.  sec.  4.  f Essay,  chap,  i,  sec.  2. 


78 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


object,  whatever  it  be,  he  terms  an  idea,  the  proper  definition  of 
which  accordingly  he  considers  to  be,  “ Anything  with  which  our 
minds  are  immediately  occupied  when  we  think.”*  Thus  the 
whole  science  of  the  human  understanding,  or,  as  it  may  be  other- 
wise expressed,  the  whole  search  after  the  true  principles  of  human 
knowledge,  is  reduced  simply  to  the  study  of  ideas. 

This  study  he  proposes  to  prosecute  in  a threefold  manner.  He 
proposes,  first,  to  investigate  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  and  the  means 
by  which  we  acquire  them  ; that  being  done,  he  offers,  secondly, 
to  show  what  knowledge  we  possess  by  means  of  our  ideas,  and  to 
determine  its  certainty,  evidence,  and  extent ; and  then,  as  there 
are  objects  in  the  mind  which  we  cannot  call  objects  of  knowl- 
edge, but  the  reality  of  which  rests  solely  upon  opinion  or  faith,  he 
proposes,  thirdly,  to  examine  the  grounds  and  the  degrees  of  our 
assent  in  matters  of  this  nature. f 

Now,  what  does  this  sketch  (which  Locke  gives  us  in  his  intro- 
duction) of  the  course  he  intended  to  follow  in  the  work  at  large 
indicate  ? It  shows  us  most  clearly  his  full  conviction,  that  the 
phenomena  of  the  mind  itself  must  be  our  first  stud}' ; and  that  the 
ideas  we  may  be  found  to  possess  within  our  consciousness  must 
be  thoroughly  probed  and  traced  to  their  very  origin,  before  we 
raise  any  inquiry  as  to  their  certainty,  their  validity,  or  their  accu- 
rate correspondence  with  any  external  object  to  which  we  may 
suppose  them  to  answer.  In  a word,  it  exhibits  the  great  principle, 
that  both  logic  and  ontology  are  out  of  place,  until  we  have  laid  a 
foundation  for  them  in  psychology.  When  we  have  once  learned 
to  appreciate  the  true  nature  of  our  faculties,  and  have  observed 
and  classified  all  the  inward  phenomena  of  our  consciousnesss,  then, 
first,  we  may  begin  to  mark  out  in  order,  the  abstract  forms  which 
our  thoughts  and  reasonings  assume — that  is,  to  create  a science 
of  formal  logic  ; and  then,  first,  also,  may  we  begin  to  inquire  how 
far  these  subjective  ideas  are  the  signs  and  proofs  of  objective  ex- 
istences,— that  is,  how  far  we  can  lay  securely  the  ground-princi- 
ples of  ontology.  So  far  Locke  was  true  to  his  proposed  method, 
so  far  he  applied  admirably  the  Baconian  system  to  the  study  of  the 
human  mind,  and  bid  fair  to  build  up  a superstructure  of  metaphys- 
ical philosophy  upon  a fixed  and  immovable  basis.J 

In  order,  then,  to  point  out  where,  and  in  what  manner,  Locke 
departed  from  the  principles  which  he  at  first  laid  down  for  his 

♦ Essay,  chap.  i.  sec.  8.  f Ibid.  chap.  i.  sec.  3. 

:j;  See  Cousin’s  “ Cours  de  I’Histoire  de  la  Phil.”  Le9on  16,  in  which  Locke’s 
Methodology  is  very  fully  discussed. 


CRITICISM  OP  LOCKE, 


79 


guidance,  let  us  for  a moment  consider  what  the  new  organum  of 
philosophy,  as  derived  from  Bacon  and  employed  by  Locke  him- 
self, really  is.  It  contains,  as  we  have  shown,  two  movements : 
first,  the  observation  of  phenomena  just  as  nature  gives  them ; and 
then  the  explication  and  recomposition  of  them,  in  such  a manner 
as  to  bring  to  view  general  laws.  Now,  fidelity  to  these  principles 
imperatively  demanded  of  Locke,  when  he  applied  them  to  the  sub- 
ject of  his  Essay,  to  commence  by  a thorough  investigation  of  all 
the  phenomena  of’  the  human  understanding,  as  they  are  given  to 
us  in  our  own  consciousness ; having  done  this,  he  inight  safely 
have  proceeded,  either  to  classify  them,  or  to  draw  any  conclusions 
that  seemed  warranted.  But  what  plan  does  he  actually  pursue  ? 
Instead  of  commencing  by  such  a careful  induction  of  facts,  he 
makes  in  the  outset  no  induction  at  all ; he  seeks  to  determine  nei- 
ther the  number  nor  the  characteristics  of  our  ideas,  but  starts  at 
once  by  searching  for  their  origin.  This  was  the  point  in  which 
he  first  of  all  departed  from  the  true  method  of  philosophizing,  and 
which  led  him,  on  many  occasions,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  into  no 
little  inaccuracy  and  confusion.* 

There  is  not,  in  fact,  a single  branch  of  inductive  science  in  the 
world,  which  would  give  correct  results,  if  pursued  in  the  same 
manner  as  Locke  pursued  the  study  of  mind.  Suppose,  for  exam- 
ple, that  the  illustrious  astronomer  of  the  same  age,  had  investigated 
the  architecture  of  the  heavens  on  the  same  principle  as  Locke  did 
the  construction  and  powers  of  the  human  understanding ; suppose 
that,  instead  of  commencing  with  a distinct  knowledge  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  heavens,  he  had  first  applied  all  his  energies  to  search 
into  the  origin  of  those  which  present  themselves  confusedly  and 
in  the  aggregate  to  the  mind  of  any  ordinary  observer,  what,  we 
ask,  would  have  been  the  result  ? He  must,  in  that  case,  necessarily 
have  formed  hypotheses  unwarranted,  or,  at  least,  unproved,  by 
facts  ; and,  instead  of  casting  a lustre  upon  his  name,  his  age,  and 
his  country,  would  have,  probably,  taken  his  rank  amongst  those  in- 
genious speculators  who  had  before  him  beaten  the  path  to  oblivion. 
The  method  which  Newton  followed  taught  him  to  reject  all  pre- 
vious hypotheses  as  so  many  obstacles  in  the  path  of  true  science ; 
it  taught  him,  before  he  sought  the  origin  of  any  phenomena,  to  ex- 
amine what  they  really  were,  what  characteristics  they  bore,  and 
how  many  of  a similar  nature  might  be  ranged  side  by  side  to  throw 
light  upon  each  other.  He  knew  that,  to  neglect  one  fact,  or  to 
* See  Cousin’s  “ Histoire  de  la  Phil.”  p.  “253.  Brussels  edition,  1840. 


80 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


imagine  one,  were  both  fatal  errors  in  inductive  science,  which 
might  lead  us  in  the  end  far  away  from  the  truth. 

Precisely  of  this  nature,  however,  was  Locke’s  first  deviation 
from  the  true  Baconian  principles.  In  commencing  by  seeking  for 
the  origin  of  our  ideas,  he  was  actually  investigating  the  source 
of  phenomena,  of  which  he  had  not  yet  determined  either  the  char- 
acter or  the  number,  investigating  them,  moreover,  as  is  almost  in- 
evitable in  such  cases,  under  the  influence  of  several  false  hypoth- 
eses. The  result  was,  that  his  conclusion  upon  this  question  was 
necessarily  a guess ; or,  if  we  would  name  it  philosophically,  an 
hypothesis  which  might  be  true  or  might  not.  Instead  of  classify- 
ing all  our  ideas  as  they  exist  in  their  present  mature  condition  in 
the  mind,  and  then  drawing  from  such  an  extensive  and  complete 
view  of  the  case,  a valid  conclusion  as  to  their  primitive  state  or 
origin,  he  drew  his  inference  before  he  had  examined  his  data,  and 
thus  made  the  observations  square  to  the  theory,  instead  of  draw- 
ing the  theoi’y  from  his  observations.  To  lay  a firm  basis  for  men- 
tal science  b}^  such  a method,  was,  and  ever  must  be,  absolutely 
impossible ; for,  when  once  we  have  an  hypothesis  ready  formed, 
we  soon  become  too  prejudiced  in  its  favor  to  judge  impartially  of 
any  facts  which  may  seem  to  militate  against  it ; and  even,  if  all 
the  facts  we  may  happen  to  observe  do  agree  -with  it,  yet,  until  we 
have  made  a systematic  induction  of  them  all,  and  brought  them 
one  by  one  to  the  proper  test,  it  is  impossible  to  regard  our  position 
as  proved  beyond  the  danger  of  being  overturned  by  some  hitherto 
unheeded  phenomenon.  But  it  is  not  an  uncertain  position  which 
will  do  for  the  corner-stone  of  a whole  system  of  philosophy.* 

* As  this  point  of  the  criticism  on  Locke  has  been  strongly  contested  by  a late 
reviewer  (see  Prospective  Review,  Nov.  1846,)  I shall  add  one  or  two  further  illustra- 
tions of  it.  The  reviewer  affirms  that  Locke  did  understand  the  true  method  of 
philosophical  research ; that  he  stated  his  thesis  first,  and  brought  up  his  facts 
afterwards ; that  the  case  of  Newton  is  an  “ unfortunate”  one,  as  he  started  with 
no  induction  of  facts,  but  simply  with  the  two  laws  of  Kepler ; and  finally,  that  Locke 
assumed  no  data  but  sensation  and  reflection.  Let  us  briefly  examine  these  four 
points. 

That  Locke  was  imbued  with  the  general  spirit  of  the  Baconian  Methodology  I have 
admitted,  and  even  affirmed — that  he  saw  its  full  application  to  the  investigation 
of  mind,  I cannot  allow.  What  was  Bacon’s  method”?  First,  to  make  a Natural 
History  of  Pacts ; next  to  classify  those  facts  ; thirdly,  to  investigate  their  relative 
weight  and  significancy ; and  then,  lastly,  to  rise  through  the  several  stages  of 
generalization  to  the  highest  law  of  the  phenomena  in  question.  In  L.ocke  we  have,  it 
is  true,  many  psychological  facts  scattered  through  his  Essay ; but  this  certainly  cannot 
be  called  a systcmalic  arraugemeni  of  the  phenomena  of  consciousness,  nor  would  any 
o.nc,  who  proceeded  upon  the  strictly  inductive  method,  make  the  whole  of  the 
facts  adduced,  from  the  very  first,  cluster  around  a theory  as  Locke  did.  He  would 
rather  repress  this  tendency  to  ” anticipate  nature”  until  the  facts  were  better  known. 
But,  says  the  reviewer,  may  not  a man  state  his  thesis  first,  and  then  bring  up  his  facts 
to  bear  upon  it  ? Certainly  he  may ; but  the  question  is,  did  Locke  do  this?  Far  from 
it.  Respecting  no  book,  perhaps,  could  such  a remark  be  more  “ unfortunate.”  Locke 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKE. 


81 


Having  thus  pointed  out  the  error  which  Locke  appears  at  the 
outset  to  have  fallen  into  in  the  method  of  conducting  his  examina- 
tion, we  may  now  proceed  to  a criticism  of  the  different  portions 
of  his  work,  and  show  in  what  manner  this  first  aberration  led  him 
into  subsequent  confusion.  As,  however,  the  whole  of  the  former 
part  of  the  Essay  is  occupied  in  discussing  the  question  of  the 
origin  of  our  ideas,  we  must  make  a few  remarks  on  this  expression, 
to  pave  the  way  for  a better  comprehension  of  Locke’s  whole 
theory.  The  term  origin  may  be  taken  in  two  senses,  essentially 

did  not  begin  to  write  after  he  had  well  digested  the  subject ; so  that  he  could  lay  down 
his  mature  conclusion  at  the  beginning  as  a thesis,  and  then  systematically  support  it. 
Locke  wrote^  in  order  to  Uarn.  He  philosophized  as  the  book  went  on.  For  eighteen 
years  he  was  writing  upon  it,  and  there  are  evident  indications  of  his  views  wavering 
and  sometimes  changing  as  the  work  proceeded.  He  was  no  reader  of  the  History  of 
Philosophy ; his  Essay,  in  fact,  contains  simply  the  process  of  his  own  philosophic 
development.  Can  it  be  said  of  such  a book  that  the  conclusion  of  the  whole,  the 
thesis  in  which  it  was  all  to  result,  could  be  laid  down  first,  the  facts  having  been  already 
•well  arranged  and  scrutinized  7 Impossible.  Locke  began  to  philosophize,  not  simply 
to  write  with  a certain  theory  ; and  that  theory  colored  the  facts  he  adduced  throughout 
the  whole  work. 

Again,  let  us  look  at  the  case  of  Newton.  The  reviewer  affirms  that  Newton  began 
with  no  systematic  view  of  the  facts  of  astronomy,  but  simply  with  Kepler’s  two  laws. 
Now  let  it  be  remembered,  that  from  the  age  of  Ptolemy  most  diligent  observations  had 
been  going  on  from  time  to  time  of  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens.  Any  one  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  astronomy  knows,  that  the  number  of  observations  taken  by 
the  astronomers  of  the  age  of  Kepler  was  prodigious  ; that  it  was  by  means  of  these 
observations  that  the  science  advanced  ; and  that,  without  them,  Kepler’s  laws  would 
never  have  been  established.  Newton  came  by  inheritance  into  all  these  observations ; 
the  very  knowledge  of  Kepler’s  laws  really  involved  them.  He  began  his  own  in- 
vestigations, therefore,  not  only  with  a distinct  idea  of  the  actual  phenomena  of  the 
case  ; but,  what  is  more,  with  certain  deductions  from  those  phenomena  already 
established  and  verified.  To  say  that  Newton  conducted  his  investigations  indepen- 
dently of  a most  wide  and  patient  colligation  of  facts  as  the  basis,  I cannot  but 
think,  involves  a total  oversight  of  the  real  foundation  upon  which  the  Newtonian 
system  rests.  To  be  further  assured  how  patiently  the  great  philosopher  observed  before 
he  reasoned,  we  have  only  to  trace  his  discoveries  in  those  subjects  where  he  could  not 
fall  back  upon  a mass  oi previous  observations,  and  we  find  that  the  colligation  of  facts, 
even  by  his  extraordinarily  sagacious  mind,  was  most  laboriously  carried  on  before  he 
ventured  to  theorize  or  to  deduce.  No  one,  assuredly,  can  maintain  that  Locke 
grounded  his  “ thesis”  of  the  nature  of  the  human  understanding,  which  stands  at  the 
outset  of  his  philosophy,  upon  a survey  of  the  facts  of  consciousness  at  all  comparable  to 
the  survey  which  Newton  inherited  of  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens.  Finally, 
the  reviewer  affirms,  that  Locke  assumed  no  data  besides  sensation  and  reflection.  We 
reply,  that  he  assumed  quite  gratuitously  his  whole  theory  of  ideas  as  representations  of 
outward  reality.  This  theory,  as  Dr.  Reid  has  shown,  lay  at  the  very  basis  of  his 
philosophy,  and,  so  far  from  leaving  the  path  of  psychological  discovery  clear,  pre- 
.sented  obstacles  to  it  at  every  step.  Had  Newton  adopted  the  Ptolemaic  theory  of 
the  heavens  as  a recognized  fact,  it  is  needless  to  say  how  it  must  have  stood  in  the  way 
of  all  advancement.  Of  a similar  nature  was  the  obstruction  which  the  ideal  system 
actually  presented  in  the  philosophical  speculations  of  Locke.  Added  to  this,  he  was 
encumbered,  perhaps  almost  unconsciously,  with  the  notion  of  animal  spirits  as  being 
the  agents  in  sensation,  and  with  the  doctrine  of  impact  as  being  the  only  method  by 
which  one  object  can  affect  another.  Of  the  justice,  then,  of  the  original  criticism, 
I still  feel  perfectly  convinced — at  any  rate,  to  prove  its  incorrectness  demands  a view 
of  the  question  very  different  from  the  plausible,  but  as  it  seems  to  me  “ loose,”  strain  of 
remark  I have  commented  upon.  In  truth,  what  we  want,  to  the  present  day,  is 
a faithful  psychology  strictly  inductive,  and  unencumbered  with  any  hypothesis.  On 
this  subject  see  Jouffroy  on  the  Method  of  Philosophical  Study,  prefixed  to  his 
translation  of  Stewart’s  “ Outlines  of  Bloral  Philosophy.” 

(j 


82 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


different  from  each  other.  It  may  mean  the  cause  of  anything 
being  produced,  or  it  may  imply  simply  the  occasion  of  its  produc- 
tion. Between  the  real  cause,  and  the  occasion  of  any  phe- 
nomenon, there  is  a wide  diversity.  The  one  implies  a producing 
power,  the  other  only  some  condition  upon  which  this  power  comes 
into  exercise.  If  I cast  a grain  of  corn  into  the  earth,  the  occasion 
of  its  springing  up  and  producing  plant,  ear,  and  grain,  is  the 
warmth  and  moisture  of  the  soil  in  which  it  is  buried ; but  this  is 
by  no  means  the  cause.  The  cause  lies  in  the  mysterious  vital 
power  which  the  seed  contains  within  itself ; the  other  is  but  the 
condition  upon  which  this  cause  produces  the  effect.  I am  aware 
that  a sensationalist,  who  rejects  the  idea  of  power,  would  repu- 
diate this  distinction,  and  regard  all  effects  similar  to  that  above 
described,  as  being  brought  about  by  a composition  of  causes.  We 
still  maintain,  however,  that  in  the  majority  of  instances  a valid 
ground  for  the  distinction  is  manifest,  and  that  the  power  by  which 
an  event  is  brought  into  being  is  clearly  separable  from  the  con- 
ditions under  which  that  power  is  put  forth.*  When  we  speak, 
therefore,  of  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  we  must  ever  take  heed  to 
avoid  the  ambiguity  which  lurks  in  the  term.  The  cause  of  any 
idea  is  the  inward  faculty  from  which  it  immediately  takes  its  rise ; 
and  this  is  in  the  proper,  and  in  the  only  proper  sense,  its  true 
origin.  But  man,  we  know,  is  a unity  ; the  different  powers  and 
faculties  of  his  mind  all  co-exist  in  one  subject,  and  develop  them- 
selves simultaneously,  working  and  interworking  together  through- 
out all  their  operations.  It  so  happens,  therefore,  that  the  action  of 
one  faculty  often  depends  upon  another,  and  only  comes  into  play 
when  thus  stimulated.  Hence  the  ideas  which  owe  their  origin, 
properly  so  called,  to  one  of  these  faculties,  may  owe  their  occasion 
to  another ; in  which  case  great  care  is  requisite  to  separate  that 
faculty  which  gives  rise  to  them  directly,  from  those  which  have  to 
do  only  indirectly  with  their  production.  Thus,  to  give  an  example? 
we  should  attribute  the  abstract  conception  of  space  directly  to  the 
operation  of  our  reason ; while  yet  we  regard  sensation,  or  an 
actual  contact  with  the  material  world,  as  absolutely  necessary  in 
order  to  incite  the  rational  faculty  to  the  formation  of  such 
a conception. t 

Now,  this  obvious  distinction  Locke  appears  to  have  entirely 

* The  real  existence  of  a nism  or  effort  in  every  effect  beyond  the  mere  visible 
antecedents,  wil!  be  illustrated  hereafter. 

t See  some  excellent  remarks  upon  this  point  in  Stewart’s  “ Philosophy  of  the  Human 
Mind,”  chap.  i.  sec.  4.  See  also  his  “ Philosopliical  Essays,”  Essay  I.  chap.  ii. 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKS. 


83 


overlooked.  Where  he  found  a difficulty  in  showing  the  direct 
dependence  of  any  idea  upon  experience,  he  soon  discovered  the 
means  of  showing  its  indirect  dependence  upon  it,  and  having  done 
this,  he  incorrectly  concluded,  that  the  whole  of  our  knowledge 
could  be  derived  from  this  one  source.  We  owe  it  mainly  to 
Kant,  that  this  fallacy  has  been  thoroughly  probed  and  refuted. 
In  the  very  first  paragraph  of  his  great  work  (“  The  Critic  of  Pure 
Reason”)  he  points  us  to  experience  as  the  occasion  of  every  pos- 
sible conception  which  the  mind  forms ; but  proves  afterwards 
most  convincingly,  that  the  true  cause  of  many  of  our  conceptions 
is  to  be  found  solely  in  the  original  constitution  of  the  understand- 
ing or  of  the  reason.  This  distinction,  then,  premised,  we  may 
proceed  to  consider  the  sentiments  which  are  advanced  in  the  first 
book  of  the  “Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding.” 

Before  Locke  proceeded  to  the  analysis  of  ideas,  properly  so 
called,  there  was  a prior  question  which  seemed  to  claim  some 
consideration ; namely,  whether  those  first  principles,  or  axioms, 
which  are  universally  granted,  which  are  regarded  as  undemon- 
strable,  and  from  which  all  reasoning  originally  proceeds,  are  not  to 
be  considered  as  strictly  innate.  Should  these  first  truths  really 
turn  out  to  be  so,  it  is  clear  that  they  would  seriously  militate 
against  Locke’s  whole  theory ; and  therefore  it  was  necessary  to 
clear  them  out  of  the  way,  before  he  proceeded  to  prove  generally 
the  empirical  origin  of  our  ideas.  And  what  course  does  he  take 
to  accomplish  this  purpose  ? He  adduces  a number  of  these  first 
truths  in  their  abstract  axiomatic  form,  and  then  undertakes  to 
prove  with  considerable  success,  that  they  are  neither  universally 
held  nor  even  universally  comprehended.*  Since,  however,  he 
had  not  only  to  disprove  their  universality  as  elements  of  human 
knowledge,  but  was  bound  also  to  account  for  their  origin  on  some 
positive  principles,  here  arose  a formidable  difficulty,  which  he  was 
obliged  to  encounter.  To  make  absolute  and  self-evident  proposi- 
tions, such  e.  g.  as  that  a whole  is  greater  than  a part,  or  that  it  is 
impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be,  merely  experi- 
mental and  factitious  in  their  nature,  appeared  absurd ; at  any  rate, 
to  show  the  method  by  which  they  could  come  simply  through  the 
aid  of  experience,  without  being  involved  in  the  natural  constitu- 
tion of  the  intellect,  was  in  the  highest  degree  difficult ; the  only 
resource  left  was  to  take  shelter  behind  a species  of  nominalism, 
and  to  declare  the  most  obvious  of  .such  propositions  to  be  verbal 

* See  Essay,  chap.  ii.  throughout. 


84 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


abstractions,  which  might  be  employed  for  convenience,  but  which 
could  be  of  no  utility  in  aiding  the  discovery  of  any  truth.  “ These 
general  maxims,”  he  says,  “ are  of  great  use  in  disputes,  to  stop 
the  mouths  of  wranglers,  but  not  of  much  use  to  the  discovery  of 
unknown  truths,  or  to  help  the  mind  forward  in  its  search  after 
knowledge.”  And  again — “As  to  other  less  general  maxims,  they 
are  no  more  than  bare  verbal  propositions,  and  teach  us  nothing 
but  the  respect  and  import  of  names  one  to  another.”* 

Now,  in  this  theory  of  maxims,  or  first  principles,  whether  spec- 
ulative or  practical,  there  is  a manifest  misapprehension  of  their 
real  force  and  character,  which  we  may  show  both  from  the  argu- 
ments by  which  he  attempts  to  prove  their  non-universality,  and 
also  from  the  considerations,  by  which  he  endeavors  to  prove  their 
practical  inutility.  In  taking  up  the  first  or  negative  argument, 
Locke  selects,  as  we  have  seen,  some  examples,  and  lays  them  be- 
fore us  in  a definite  verbal  form ; then  having  shown  that  such 
axioms  would  be  unintelligible  to  a child  or  a savage,  he  infers  that 
they  are  not  innate,  nay,  that  their  very  terms  themselves  have  to 
be  empirically  acquired  before  they  can  be  duly  appreciated.f  No 
doubt  this  is  perfectly  correct  on  the  supposition,  that  a first  truth 
necessarily  means  something  expressed  or  conceived  in  formal, 
logical  language.  In  this  sense  there  can  be  no  maxim  innate, 
because  in  nature  there  are  given  neither  propositions  ready  formed, 
nor  even  words  by  which  we  may  form  tbem.  But  while  no  prin- 
ciple is  implanted  in  us  by  nature,  in  its  complete  logical  form,  yet 
there  may  be  many  virtually  implied  and  included  in  the  necessary 
laws  by  which  our  judgments  are  governed,  and  our  thoughts  de- 
velop themselves.  Ask  a savage  whether  every  effect  must  have 
a sufficient  cause,  and  he  would  smile  unintelligently  at  the  ques- 
tion ; and  yet  that  untutored  mind  is  so  constructed,  that  it  acts 
necessarily  upon  the  very  principle,  which,  clothed  in  an  artificial 
and  verbal  dress,  it  was  unable  to  comprehend.  Ask  a child  whether 
a whole  is  greater  than  a part,  or  whether  the  same  thing  can  at 
the  same  time  be  and  not  be,  and,  as  Locke  truly  says,  he  would 
not  very  likely  comprehend  the  very  terms  of  the  question ; but 
let  him  be  brought  into  a position  in  which  he  has  to  pass  such  a 
judgment  in  its  concrete  form,  and  you  find  that  his  mind  compre- 
hends the  full  force  of  the  axiom,  and  acts  upon  it  as  necessarily 
as  we  do.  Certain,  then,  as  it  may  be,  that  these  first  truths  are 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKE. 


85 


unintelligible  to  the  infant  or  untutored  mind,  yet,  strip  them  of 
their  abstract  dress,  and  you  will  find  that  every  mind  contains,  in 
its  primitive  judgments,  nay,  possesses,  as  the  very  law  of  its  ac- 
tivity, the  germ  of  these  very  axioms  which  the  more  cultivated 
intellect  learns  but  to  develop  and  to  express.*^ 

Again,  with  regard  to  the  other  ground  which  Locke  takes  up, 
when  he  denies  the  real  value  of  axioms,  and  affirms  them  to  be 
of  no  avail  in  our  search  after  knowledge ; here,  also,  there  is  the 
same  misapprehension  of  their  real  nature.  That  we  are  unable 
to  draw  truth  directly  from  such  first  principles  we  allow ; but  that 
is  far  from  proving  them  to  be  worthless.  So  far,  indeed,  from 
that,  it  may  be  easily  seen,  that  they  lie  at  the  very  foundation  of 
all  our  reasoning,  so  that  without  their  existence  in  the  mind  no 
argument  would  be  possible.  Locke  affirms,  in  opposition  to  this, 
that  mathematicians,  who  make  the  most  use  of  axioms,  employ 
them  more  for  convenience  or  custom  than  utility ; and  we  *ire 
quite  ready  to  grant  that  they  do  so,  as  far  as  the  verbal  expres- 
sion of  them  goes.  But  let  any  one  try  to  reason  one  single  step 
without  having  them  in  the  mind,  and  taking  their  truth  for  granted, 
and  it  will  soon  be  seen  that  they  are  the  necessary  condition  of 
every  demonstration  that  we  empkiy.  Nature  gives  us  nothing  in 
the  abstract,  and  therefore,  in  this  sense,  neither  axioms  nor  ideas 
can  be  innate ; but  she  gives  us  that  mental  constitution,  and  im- 
presses upon  us  those  laws  of  thought,  Avhich  necessarily  involve 
such  first  axiomatic  truths,  and  which  lead  every  mind  to  form 
them  inwardly  for  itself  as  soon  as  it  comes  into  contact  with  the 
world  without. t Our  conclusion,  then,  respecting  the  whole  ques- 
. tion  of  first  principles,  speculative  and  practical,  is  this,  that  al- 
though in  their  abstract  form  they  are  not  innate,  yet  that  there 
are  innate  faculties,  or  laws  of  thought  which,  when  put  into  ac- 
tion by  experience,  necessarily  give  rise  to  them  as  primitive  judg- 
ments ; and  that  these  judgments,  at  first  applied  in  the  concrete, 
at  length,  by  a process  of  abstraction,  assume  a perfect  axiomatic 
form.  Experience,  accordingly,  is  the  occasion  of  their  produc- 
tion, but  their  real  cause  or  origin  is  to  be  found  in  the  native 
energy  of  the  human  mind. 

The  doctrine  of  principles  being  disposed  of  in  the  first  book  of 
his  Essay,  Locke  proceeds,  in  the  second,  to  develop  his  theory 

* See  Leibnitz’s  “Nouveaux  Essais  sur  I’Entendement  Humain,”  Book  I.,  where 
the  arguments  of  Locke  upon  the  question  of  moral  and  speculative  principles  are 
vigorously  refuted. 

I See  Cousin’s  “ Histoire  de  la  Phil.”  Lejon  24. 


86 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


respecting  the  origin  of  o^lr  ideas.  The  supposition  of  our  ideas 
being  innate,  he  rejects  primarily  on  this  ground,  that  if  it  can  be 
shown  (which  he  believes  to  be  quite  possible)  that  we  have  facul- 
ties capable  of  forming  them,  there  is  no  reason  to  regard  them  as 
originally  implanted.*  So  far  Locke  is  undoubtedly  correct,  and 
has  shown  satisfactorily  that  our  natural  faculties  are  sufficient  to 
account  for  every  notion  we  possess,  without  our  having  recourse 
to  the  fiction  of  innate  ideas.  But  then  mark  the  process  of  rea- 
soning, which  he  institutes  from  this  point.  Let  it  be  allowed,  that 
every  idea  is  the  result  of  our  natural  faculties ; from  what,  then, 
he  asks,  does  the  action  of  these  faculties  take  its  rise  ? Mani- 
festly from  experience.  Therefore,  he  concludes,  experience  must 
be  the  primary  source  of  all  our  ideas.  This  it  was  which  induced 
Locke  to  make  use  of  the  illustration,  that  compares  the  mind  to 
white  paper,  which  is  void  of  all  characters  until  the  hand  of  expe- 
rience inscribe  them. 

Now  here,  again,  we  may  observe  the  error  into  which  Locke 
was  led  by  confounding  the  cause  of  our  ideas  with  their  occasion. 
There  can  be  no  idea,  he  argues,  prior  to  experience ; — granted. 
Therefore,  he  concludes,  the  mind  previous  to  it  is,  as  it  were,  a 
“ tabula  rasaf  owing  every  notion,  which  it  gains,  primarily  to  an 
empirical  source.  Granted  still — if  all  that  is  meant  be  simply, 
that  experience  is  the  occasion  or  condition  of  acquiring  our  ideas ; 
but  if  it  be  intended  that  this  is  in  every  case  their  proper  origin, 
we  at  once  demur.  The  mind  comes  into  existence,  if  indeed  void 
of  actual  ideas,  yet  by  no  means  destitute  of  the  forms  or  cate- 
gories, both  of  sensation  and  intellection,  that  is,  in  other  words,  of 
intellectual  laws  and  principles ; and  it  is  to  these  that  we  attribute 
the  direct  origin  of  all  the  pure  conceptions  of  reason,  although  it 
might  have  been  experience,  which  occasioned  the  formation  of 
them.f  The  spirit  of  man,  just  like  the  seed,  to  which  I before 
referred,  has  its  inherent  energy  within  itself.  The  grain  of  wheat 
has  in  it,  potentially,  the  ear  that  is  to  wave  in  the  next  summer’s 
. sun,  and  the  acorn,  in  its  little  circumference,  incloses  the  oak  that 
is  to  bear  the  blast  of  ages ; in  the  same  manner,  does  the  mind  at 
birth  contain  potentially  all  the  elements  of  the  future  man,  neither 
more  nor  less.  But  as  the  seed  must  come  in  contact  with  the  soil 
to  call  its  hidden  powers  into  development,  so  must  the  mind  come 

* See  Essay,  chap.  ii.  sec,  1. 

See  Kant’s  “ Critic  of  Pure  Reason,  Trancendental,  jEsthetic,  Analytic,”  in  which 
the  a priori  element  is  throughout  separated  from  the  Empirical,  and  all  experience 
shown  to  arise  from  the  synthesis  of  the  two. 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKE. 


87 


into  contact  with  the  world  of  experience,  in  order  that  its  ener- 
gies may  unfold  themselves,  and  produce  their  own  proper  fruits.* 
Having  broadly  laid  down  the  principle,  that  all  the  materials  of* 
our  knowledge  come  from  experience,  Locke  goes  on  to  explain 
his  theory  more  particularly.  Observation,  he  shows,  may  be  ex- 
ternal or  interna],  that  is,  it  may  have  reference  to  the  visible 
world,  or  to  our  own  mental  operations.  The  former  kind  of  ob- 
servation is  called  sensation,  the  latter  rejiection.  These  two,  then, 
sensation  and  reflection,  are  the  sources  of  all  our  ideas,  and  it  was 
for  the  sake  of  proving  and  illustrating  this  position  that  the  greater 
portion  (that  is,  the  second  book)  of  the  Essay  was  written.  Now, 
in  estimating  this  theory  of  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  it  is  of  great 
importance  to  know  exactly  what  is  included  in  the  two  terms 
sensation  and  reflection,  and  to  attribute  to  them  neither  more  nor 
less  than  the  author  intended.  With  regard  to  the  first,  we  can 
have  but  little  difficulty  in  perceiving,  that  he  included  under  it 
simply  that  state  of  passive  receptivity  in  which  the  mind  exists, 
when  brought,  by  means  of  the  senses,  into  contact  with  the  mate- 
rial world.  In  making  reflection  a source  of  ideas  co-ordinate  with 
sensation,  he  renders  quite  obvious  the  distinction  between  the 
passive  and  the  active  faculties  of  man,  and  clearly  avoids  the  ex- 
treme into  which  so  many  of  his  followers  have  run,  in  regarding 
sensation  as  the  foundation  principle  of  all  our  mental  operations. 
If,  then,  there  be  any  doubt  at  all  in  determining  the  precise  mean- 
ing of  the  theory  now  before  us,  it  must  all  rest  in  the  acceptation 
of  the  term  rejlection.f  The  question  to  be  decided  is  this, — Does 
Locke  intend  that  by  means  of  reflection  we  can  gain  any  actual 
materials  of  knowledge  distinct  from  the  intimations  of  our  senses, 
or  that  the  use  of  it  is  simply  to  combine  and  compare  the  materials 
which  the  senses  primarily  afford  us?  If  he  mean  the  former, 
then  he  admits  that  there  are  two  distinct  and  original  sources  of 
knowledge ; if  the  latter,  then  he  allows  but  one  real  inlet  for  our 

* Sensationalists  have  attempted  to  contravene  this  view,  bv  the  supposition  that  the 
understanding  grows  up  into  the  possession  of  its  powers,  just  as  the  human  body  con- 
solidates. They  forget  that  as,  without  the  process  of  assimilation,  the  consolidation 
of  the  body  could  never  take  place,  so  without  the  native  construction  of  the  intellectual 
faculty  its  powers  could  never  develop.  That  native  construction  involves  all  we  con- 
tend for— it  contains  the  subjective  elements  of  experience,  i.  e.  it  contains  all  those 
ground-forms  of  the  understanding,  by  which  knowledge  from  experience  can  be  assim- 
ilated, and  made  valid  to  the  human  mind. 

f It  must  be  admitted  that  Locke  uses  the  term  reflection  in  a very  wavering  and 

undefined  sense.  See  Stewart’s  remarks  on  it  in  his  Preliminary  Dissertation also 

Hallam’s  “ Lit.  of  Europe,”  vol.  iii.  p.  365.  I still  think,  however,  that  the  general 
and  predominating  use  of  the  word  in  Locke’s  Essay  may  be  ascertained  with  some 
accuracy. 


S8 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ideas,  although  reflection  may  give  us  the  means  of  extensively 
modifying  and  combining  them.  A careful  perusal  of  the  first 
few  chapters  of  the  second  book,  is,  I think,  quite  sufficient  to  con- 
vince us,  that  the  latter  of  these  opinions  was  the  one  which  Locke 
decidedly  entertained. 

That  sensation  is  the  first  developed  of  these  two  sources,  he 
again  and  again  asserts  in  such  passages  as  the  following : — “ I see 
no  reason  to  believe  that  the  soul  thinks  before  the  senses  have 
furnished  it  with  ideas  and  again  more  clearly,  “ The  mind  first 
employs  itself  about  the  impressions  made  on  the  senses  and  in 
many  other  passages  assertions  of  a similar  nature  are  made.*  To 
determine,  however,  more  accurately  the  exact  province  of  reflec- 
tion, (i.  e.,  of  the  mind’s  observation  of  its  own  operations,)  in  the 
acquisition  of  our  ideas,  Locke  gives  us  an  analysis  of  what  these 
inward  operations  really  are.  The  first  is  perception,  which  he 
uses  to  express  merely  the  consciousness  of  our  sensations. t As, 
therefore,  perception  is  expressly  said  to  be  passive,  and  is  only 
occupied  with  our  sensations,  it  cannot  add  any  fresh  material  to 
our  knowledge.  The  next  chapter  treats  of  retention,  which  is  the 
same  as  memory,  and  which  we  see  at  once,  can  only  occupy 
itself  with  ideas  already  in  the  mind.J  The  third  operation  is  dis- 
cernment, which  expresses  simply  the  separation  of  our  ideas. § 
The  fourth  is  comparison ; the  fifth  composition ; and  the  sixth  and 
last,  abstraction ; all  which  do  nothing  more  than  either  combine 
several  ideas  together,  or  isolate  some  general  property  belonging 
to  them,  and  contemplate  it  by  itself.H  These  are  the  mental  oper- 
ations, to  discern  which  is  the  province  of  reflection;  and  it  is 
clear  from  the  whole  account,  that  the  different  faculties,  thus  enu- 
merated, are  made  to  hold  a place  quite  subordinate  to  sensation  ; 
that  they  operate  only  upon  the  material  afforded  by  it ; and  that, 
in  fine,  there  is  only  one  real  inlet  to  our  ideas,  that,  namely,  which 
is  the  inlet  to  all  the  impressions  of  the  material  world. 

To  propound  a theory  is  always  an  easy  task  ; to  sustain  it  is 
altogether  a different  thing.  Locke’s  main  difficulty  was  now  to 
come,  that  is,  to  show  how  every  idea,  of  whatever  nature,  could 
enter  the  mind  through  the  two  media  which  he  had  pointed  out. 
For  this  purpose  he  selects  those  ideas  which  appear  least  dependent 
upon  sensation,  and  had  usually  been  considered  as  innate ; and 
enters  into  many  long  and  acute  processes  of  reasoning,  in  order 

* See  Essay,  Book  II.  chap.  \i.  passim.  f Ibid.' chap.  ix.  sec,  1,  2.  3,  4. 

\ Ibid.  chap.  x.  See  Essay,  Book  II.  chap.  xi.  sec.  1,  2. 

II  Ibid  chap.  xi.  sec.  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9. 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKE. 


89 


to  bring  them  within  the  limits  of  experience.  These  ideas,  to  take 
them  as  near  as  possible  in  the  order  in  which  he  has  discussed 
them,  are  those  of  Space,  of  Time,  of  Infinity,  of  Causality,  of  per- 
sonal Identity,  of  Substance,  and  lastly  of  Good  and  Evil.  To  enter 
into  the  discussion  of  these  ideas  separately,  would  lead  us  far  be- 
yond our  present  prescribed  limits,  and  we  must,  therefore,  endeavor 
to  point  out,  as  clearly  as  we  are  able,  the  fundamental  error  which 
runs  through  the  whole.  This  is,  in  fact,  no  other  than  that  which 
we  have  before  pointed  out,  namely,  the  confounding  of  the  cause 
with  the  occasion.  Victor  Cousin,  following  the  language  of  the 
schools,  terms  the  true  origin  of  an  idea  the  logical  condition  of 
its  existence,  while  the  occasion  of  it  he  calls  the  chronological 
condition.  In  seeking,  for  example,  the  logical  order  of  any  two 
ideas,  we  attempt  to  determine  which  one  rationally  includes  the 
other.  In  seeking  the  chronological  order,  we  attempt  to  deter- 
mine which  one  the  mind  actually  becomes  first  conscious  of.  If, 
according  to  the  former  method,  we  seek  to  deduce  our  notions  in  a 
logical  series  one  from  another,  we  shall  find  that  the  abstract  ideas, 
which  I have  mentioned  above,  are  all  of  them  primar}' — that  they 
are  the  links  in  the  several  chains  of  subordinate  ideas,  which 
are  referable  to  them  as  their  categories ; but  if,  according  to  the 
latter  method,  we  simply  ask,  what  is  the  order  in  time  according 
to  which  these  notions  actually  arose  within  us,  then  we  shall  find 
that  the  date  of  our  first  experience  is  the  date  also  of  our  first  con- 
ceptions.* Let  us  take,  as  an  example,  the  idea  of  space,  and  the 
idea  of  matter.  Which  one,  we  ask,  is  dependent  upon  the  other  ? 
Logically,  the  notion  of  body  must  evidently  depend  upon  that  of 
space  ; for  you  can  conceive  of  the  existence  of  no  single  body, 
and  no  aggregate  of  bodies,  without  placing  them  in  space,  while 
you  can  easily  conceive  of  space  denuded  of  all  matter.  On  the 
other  hand,  in  the  chronological  order,  the  idea  of  Body  would 
stand,  at  least,  contemporary  with  that  of  Space,  since  it  is  our  first 
contact  with  body  which  occasions  our  reason  to  form  for  itself 
the  absolute  notion  of  space,  as  that  in  which  all  matter  must  exist. 
The  want  of  this  distinction,  or  rather  the  frequent  neglect  of  the 
logical  dependence  of  our  ideas,  one  upon  the  other,  is  the  funda- 
mental error  pervading  the  whole  attempt,  which  Locke  makes,  to 
give  to  our  pure  and  absolute  conceptions  an  empirical  origin. 

To  maintain  his  theory  satisfactorily,  Locke  is  betrayed  into 
statements  which,  however  acute,  will  not  stand  the  test  of  a closer 
* Histoire  de  la  Philosophie,  Le5on  17. 


90 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


analysis.  The  idea  of  Space  he  derives  immediately  from  Sight 
and  Touch,  the  correctness  of  which  he  thinks  so  evident,  “ that  it 
would  be  as  needless  to  go  to  prove  that  men  perceive  by  their 
sight  a distance  between  bodies  of  different  colors,  or  between  parts 
of  the  same  body,  as  that  they  see  colors  themselves.”*  Now, 
what  does  Locke  mean  by  saying  that  we  derive  this  idea  from 
Sight  and  Touch  ? Not  assuredly  that  we  can  see  or  touch  Space 
itself,  not  that  it  is  an  actual  sensation, — but  that,  when  we  sei 
Bodies  apart,  there  is  immediately  suggested  to  us  the  idea  of  th 
intervening  distance  ; and  so  also  that,  when  we  have/eZ^  resist- 
ance, the  negative  of  non-resistance  brings  us  to  the  same  notion. 
The  idea  of  Space,  then,  on  Locke’s  theory,  though  distinct  from 
that  of  Body,  yet  is  derived  by  inference  from  it.  In  reply  to  this, 
however,  we  ask,  does  not  the  idea  of  Body  logically  include  and 
suppose  that  of  Space  ? Can  we  conceive  of  Body  without  Space  ? 
Can  we  see  it  or  touch  it  without  seeing  it  and  touching  it  in  space  ? 
To  us  it  seems  clear,  as  Kant  has  abundantly  shown,  that  the  idea 
of  Space  is  one  of  the  very  forms  of  all  sensation,  though  not,  as  he 
supposes,  simply  of  a subjective  value ; and  if  so,  it  must  virtually 
exist  before  any  induction  from  sensible  experience  can  possibly  be 
made. 

Of  a similar  nature  is  his  account  of  the  notion  of  Time.  This 
he  would  show  arises  from  reflection  upon  the  succession  of  our 
thoughts.  It  is  an  induction  from  our  inward  experience.  But  is 
not  the  notion  of  Time  itself  an  element  necessary  to  this  inward 
experience  ? All  our  ideas — all  the  inward  events  of  our  life — 
must  exist  in  Time ; it  is  the  subjective  sphere  of  the  mind’s  oper- 
ations. How,  then,  can  it  result  as  an  experimental  deduction 
from  those  operations  ? 

The  idea  of  Infinity,  again,  Locke  makes  purely  negative  ; a 
conclusion  which  he  drew,  as  it  seems  to  me,  from  regarding  the 
word  idea  as  implying  a distinct  image  in  the  mind.  That  we  can- 
not have  an  image  of  Infinity  in  the  mind  is  true,  but  that  is  no 
proof  that  we  ,may  not  rise  to  a conception  of  it.* 

As  to  personal  Identity,  it  consists,  according  to  Locke,  entirely 
in  our  consciousness  ; so  that,  if  our  consciousness  ceases,  we  of 
course  must  cease  to  be  the  same  persons  that  we  were  before. 

’ Essay,  Book  II.  chap.  xiii.  sec.  3. 

* Mr.  Hallam  has  some  excellent  remarks  upon  Locke’s  use  of  the  term  Idea.  “ We 
cannot  have  an  Image  in  the  mind  of  a thousand-sided  figure — but  we  have  the  most 
precise  conception  of  it.”  Again  he  says,  “ What  Image  can  we  form  of  a differential, 
which  can  pretend  to  represent  it  in  any  other  sense  than  as  d x represents  it,  by  sug- 
ge.stion  not  by  resemblance'!” — Lit.  of  Europe,  vol.  iii.  p.  367. 

I 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKE. 


91 


According  to  his  own  doctrine,  therefore,  that  consciousness  ceases 
during  sleep,  it  follows  that  our  personal  Identity  is  nightly  sus- 
pended. But  here,  as  before,  we  may  ask,  could  we  have  ever  had 
any  consciousness  at  all — that  is,  could  the  mind  have  ever  been 
conscious  of  its  own  operations  as  its  own,  without  the  idea  of  per- 
sonal Identity  being  virtually  at  the  basis  ? The  one  process 
logically  involves  the  other. 

Of  Power,  or  Causation,  Locke’s  account  is  somewhat  varying. 
In  one  passage  he  derives  it  from  the  observation,  that  we  can 
move  our  bodies  at  pleasure  ; or  that  one  object  in  nature  can  pro- 
duce motion  in  another.*  In  another  place  he  derives  it  from 
reflection  upon  our  own  faculties,  independently  of  Body.f  The 
whole  chapter  on  power,  indeed,  seems  to  me  to  be  written  in  a 
much  higher  strain  of  philosophizing  than  the  preceding  portions 
of  the  Essay. 

The  distinct  idea  of  Substance,  Locke  repeatedly  denies,  except 
it  be  a cluster  of  sensations  with  the  supposition  of  some  sub- 
stratum in  which  they  adhere — a supposition  which  he  compares  to 
the  Indian  fable  of  the  tortoise  that  supports  the  world.  If  an  idea 
is  to  mean  an  image,  or  actual  resemblance  in  the  mind,  he  is 
undoubtedly  right ; but  that  we  have  the  cL  priori  conception  of 
Substance  as  a synthetical  judgment,  we  shall  have  in  the  sequel 
many  proofs. 

Lastly — Locke’s  ideas  of  Good  and  Evil  are  entirely  of  the 
utilitarian  character ; they  are  made  the  result  instead  of  being 
held  up  as  the  foundation  of  our  ideas  of  reward  and  punishment.f 

In  all  these  instances  Locke  has  admirably  traced  the  conditions 
under  which  the  reason  is  excited  to  action,  and  the  occasions 
upon  which  its  own  primitive  judgments  are  formed,  in  accordance 
with  the  laws  of  our  intellectual  being ; but  he  has  erred  in  repre- 
senting the  absolute  idea,  as  being  derivable  in  each  case  from 
those  allied  sensations,  by  which  the  understanding  is  indeed 
aroused,  but  not  conditioned  to  the  perception  of  fundamental 
truth. 

With  regard  to  the  true  origin  of  these  ideas,  we  should  come  to 
the  same  conclusion  as  we  did  in  the  case  of  first  principles ; 
namely,  that  they  cannot  be  sti’ictly  speaking  innate,  inasmuch  as 
nothing  is  given  by  nature  in  its  abstract  form.  The  original  opera- 

* Book  II.  chap.  vii.  sec.  8.  f Book  II.  chap.  xxi.  sec.  1. 

Book  I.  chap.  iii.  passim.  Locke’s  utilitarianism  was  the  chief  ground  of  the  attack 
he  sustained  from  Lord  Shaftesbury,  and  other  ethical  writers  of  the  same  age. 


92 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


tions  of  the  human  reason  are  its  primitive  judgments.  These  judg- 
rnents,  at  first  particular  or  concrete,  are  generalized,  by  the  aid  of 
language,  into  propositions  or  axioms ; and  these  propositions  still 
further  separate  themselves  into  ideas.  What  is  properly  innate 
within  us  is  the  faculty,  by  which  we  are  led  to  form  these  primi- 
tive judgments,  so  soon  as  we  actually  come  into  contact  with  the 
outer  Avorld.  Our  absolute  ideas,  therefore,  which  are  virtually 
included  in  them,  although  not  of  themselves  innate,  yet  arise  by 
necessity  from  this  innate  power  of  understanding  and  reason,  and 
are  by  no  means,  as  Locke  would  have  it,  conceptions  drawn 
originally  from  the  intimations  of  sense.  By  taking  up  this  position 
he  was  obliged,  as  we  have  seen,  to  attenuate  or  altogether  destroy 
some  of  the  most  necessary  and  undeniable  conceptions  of  the 
human  mind ; but  he  upheld  the  credit  of  the  theory  with  which 
he  started,  and  which,  we  have  no  doubt  with  the  most  thorough 
conviction  of  its  truth,  he  labored  most  earnestly  to  support. 
Such  was  the  consequence  of  reducing  his  data  to  his  principles, 
instead  of  deducing  his  principles  from  his  data.*' 

The  third  book  of  Locke’s  Essay  is  a treatise  on  the  philosophy 
ol  Language.  We  shall  not  occupy  space  by  making  any  remarks 
upon  this.  With  the  exception  of  some  leaning  to  that  species  of 
nominalism,  which  was  afterwards  more  completely  developed  by 
Horne  Tooke,  there  is  much  practical  wisdom  contained  in  the 
cautions  which  are  given,  against  being  led  astray  by  the  force  of 
words,  or  being  deluded,  as  Bacon  terms  it,  by  the  Idola  Fori. 

Before  we  close,  however,  our  critique  upon  this  immortal  Essay, 
we  must  offer  a few  considerations  upon  the  fourth  book.  Hitherto 
Locke  had  been  occupied  simply  and  solely  with  ideas  and  their 
origin  ; he  had  kept  himself  strictly  within  the  limits  of  psychology, 
and  sought  to  determine  nothing,  except  what  properly  belonged 
to  the  inner  world.  In  the  fourth  book  he  makes  the  passage  from 
psychology  into  ontology,  and  institutes  inquiries  like  the  following : 
What  is  the  nature  of  ideas  ? What  do  they  represent  ? What 
is  the  knowledge  of  objective  existence  we  obtain  from  them? 
And  what  confidence  may  we  have  in  the  correctness  and  reality 
of  this  knowledge  ? — questions  which  all  must  admit  to  be  of  no 
small  importance.  So  long  as  we  regard  our  ideas  simply  as  ideas, 
it  is  evident  that  we  are  completely  shut  up  within  ourselves  : how, 
then,  are  we  to  take  the  step  from  the  subjective  world  to  the 

* On  the  true  theory  of  Ideas,  see  Cousin’s  Histoire  de  la  Philosophie,”  Leyon  22. 
towards  the  elose. 


CRITICISM  OF  LOCKE. 


93 


objective ; and  how  are  we  to  know  that  the  one  is  a veracious 
manifestation  of  the  other  ? This  leads  us  naturally  to  ask,  what  is 
Locke’s  real  theory  respecting  the  nature  of  ideas — a point,  the 
determination  of  which  has  occasioned  no  little  dispute  amongst 
philosophers.  Dr.  Reid  contends,  that  Locke’s  “ idea”  is  a real 
independent  existence  in  the  original  and  proper  use  of  the  term, 
and  claims  the  honor  of  having  exploded  this  long-sustained  theory, 
on  the  principles  of  common  sense.  Dr.  Brown  withheld  from  him 
the  honor  thus  laid  claim  to,  and  denied  that  Locke,  in  common 
with  many  others  of  the  same  and  a former  age,  used  the  term  in 
the  sense  thus  attributed  to  them.*  Perhaps  the  true  statement  of 
the  case  lies  midway  between  these  two  extremes.  Dr.  Reid 
attributes  to  Locke  too  much  of  the  peripatetic  doctrine,  while  Dr. 
Brown  as  certainly  attributes  to  him  just  so  much  too  little.  That 
Locke  believed  all  the  apparatus  of  sensible  species,  intelligible 
species,  and  phantasms,  as  given  by  Aristotle,  we  think  very 
improbable  ; at  the  same  time  he  manifestly  held  a representative 
theory  respecting  the  doctrine  of  perception ; supposing,  not  with 
Dr.  Reid,  that  our  knowledge  of  external  things  is  immediate,  but 
that,  besides  the  perceiving  mind,  and  the  thing  perceived,  there  is 
the  representation,  or  idea  of  the  latter,  as  the  connecting  link 
between  them.  This  may  be  seen  by  consulting  the  fourth  chapter 
of  the  fourth  book  of  his  Essay,  in  which  he  says, — “ It  is  evident 
that  the  mind  knows  not  things  immediately,  but  by  the  interven- 
tion of  the  ideas  it  has  ©f  them  : our  knowledge,  therefore,  is  real 
only  so  far  as  there  is  a conformity  between  our  ideas  and  the 
reality  of  things.”  Here,  then,  we  have  plainly  his  fixed  senti- 
ment, that  knowledge  depends  upon  the  conformity  of  our  ideas 
with  the  external  things  they  represent,  and  that  error  consists  in 
their  non-conformity.  In  this  theory,  we  conceive,  Locke  has 
taken  up  an  untenable  position  ; and  we  willingly  concede,  there- 
fore, to  Dr.  Reid,  the  honor  of  having  put  the  whole  subject  in  a 
clear  light,  and  fixed  it,  as  far  as  he  went,  on  its  right  foundation.! 

Viewing  the  representative  theory  of  human  knowledge  as  we 
will,  it  is  beset  with  difficulties.  First,  on  the  supposition  that  the 
image  or  idea  which  intervenes  between  the  mind  and  the  outer 
world  is  material,  we  find  it  impossible  to  account  for  those  no- 
tions, which  do  not  admit  of  being  represented  by  a material  sym- 

* Compare  Reid’s  “ Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind,”  chapters  i,  and  vii.,  with  Brown’s 
“ Lectures,”  Lecture  xxvii. 

t On  this  pefceptionalist  controversy,  consult  Sir  W.  Hamilton’s  admirable  article — 
Ediinhurgh  Review,  No.  52. 


94 


MODEUN  PHILOSOPHY. 


bol.  Of  this  kind  are  our  notions  of  secondary  qualities,  for  who 
can  conceive  of  the  material  image  of  blue  or  green,  or  soft  or 
hard  ?*  Of  the  same  nature  also  are  all  those  notions  we  have  of  the 
spiritual  world,  for  is  it  to  be  conceived  that  mind,  immaterial  in 
itself,  throws  off  a material  image  in  order  that  it  may  be  the  ob- 
ject of  its  own  contemplation  ? In  fact,  Locke  gives  up  philoso- 
phy altogether  as  soon  as  he  comes  to  consider  the  real  existence 
of  anything  beyond  the  material,  and  throws  himself  upon  revela- 
tion as  tlie  only  source  from  which  we  can  infer  its  certainty.f 
Again,  if  we  suppose  the  idea  to  be  immaterial,  we  are  no  better 
off:  for  here  the  chief  objection  against  the  whole  representative 
hypothesis  has  its  full  force.  Allow,  for  argument’s  sake,  that  our 
knowledge  does  all  depend  upon  the  conformity  of  the  idea  with 
its  object ; how,  then,  are  we  to  infer  this  conformity  ? Without 
being  able  to  institute  some  comparison  between  the  image  and 
the  original,  it  is  clear  we  can  never  know  whether  they  resemble 
each  other  or  not ; but  to  institute  this  comparison  supposes  a 
direct  perception  of  that  original,  independent  of  its  representative 
idea,  and  shuts  us  up  to  this  alternative — either  that  we  have  the 
means  of  knowing  objects  without  the  intervention  of  ideas,  and 
therefore  that  they  are  unnecessary ; or  else,  if  we  have  no  means 
of  knowing  them  otherwise,  that  we  can  never  be  sure  of  the 
conformity  between  the  object  and  the  idea,  on  which  very  con- 
formity our  knowledge  depends  ; and  therefore,  can  have  no  secure 
ground  for  certain  knowledge  at  all.  The  refutation  of  the  “ ideal 
system”  lies,  in  fact,  almost  in  a nutshell.  The  intervening  image 
must  be  material  or  immaterial.  If  it  be  material,  it  still  remains 
to  show  how  the  mind  can  communicate  with  it  without  a second 
image  ; if  it  be  immaterial,  then  how  can  it  communicate  with  the 
outward  world  any  better  than  the  mind  itself?  The  only  con- 
clusion to  which  the  whole  theory  can  ultimately  lead,  is  that  of 
the  most  rigid  scepticism. J 

That  scepticism  is  the  real  result  of  the  theory  we  have  now 
described,  is  seen  from  the  use  that  has  been  actually  made  of  it. 
Berkeley  drew  from  it  his  arguments  against  the  existence  of  the 
material  world,  and  Hume  based  upon  the  same  the  principles,  by 
which  he  sought  to  involve  the  whole  superstructure  of  human 

* Lofke  virtually  abandons  his  own  theory  here,  and  admits  that  we  can  have  no 
representation  of  secondary  qualities  whatever.  Essay,  Book  II.  chap.  viii.  sec.  13. 

f Sec  Essay,  Book  IV,  chap,  xi.  sec.  12. 

j;  For  a more  full  discussion  of  the  theory  of  representationalism,  consult  Cousin’s 
“ Hisloire  de  la  Philosophie,”  I.eron  xxii. 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  ENGLAND. 


95 


knowledge,  from  its  very  foundations,  in  one  scene  of  doubt  and 
confusion. 

Our  perceptions,  as  Dr.  Reid  has  shown  in  opposition  to  this 
theoiy,  instead  of  depending  upon  an  intermediate  representative 
idea,  are  direct  and  immediate:  the  mind  perceives  and  knows 
just  because  it  has  been  so  constituted,  and  possesses  within  itself 
those  first  principles,  (whether  we  call  them  with  Kant  forms  of 
the  understanding,  or  with  Reid  principles  of  common  sense,  or 
wth  Brown  principles  of  intuitive  belief,)  which  are  the  starting- 
points  whence  all  our  subsequent  and  deduced  knowledge  takes 
its  rise.*  The  more  accurate  analysis,  however,  of  this  theory 
of  perception  we  must  leave  until  we  come  to  the  explanation  of 
the  philosophy  of  “ common  sense.” 

Into  Locke’s  views  respecting  judgment,  faith,  enthusiasm,  and 
some  other  points  of  a minor  character,  we  shall  not  enter,  because 
they  bear  but  slightly  upon  the  main  features  of  his  philosophy. 
We  cannot  part  from  him,  however,  without  bearing  testimony  to 
his  singular  independence  of  mind,  his  acuteness  and  strength  of 
intellect,  his  rectitude  of  character,  his  honest  and  unflinching 
search  after  truth,  and  his  zeal  for  the  diffusion  of  a manly,  intel- 
ligent piety.  If,  however,  wo  would  point  out  candidly  the  in- 
fluence which  Locke  exerted  upon  the  progress  of  speculative 
philosophy,  it  must  be  confessed,  that  notwithstanding  all  the  ad- 
mirable lessons  which  his  writings  contain,  they  manifested  a 
decided  leaning  towards  sensationalism,  and  included,  though  un- 
known to  himself,  germs  which,  after  a time,  bore  the  fruits  of 
utilitarianism  in  morals,  of  materialism  in  metaphysics,  and  of 
scepticism  in  religion.  To  exhibit  the  process  by  which  this  was 
effected,  will  be  the  next  point  to  which  our  attention  must  be 
directed. 


Sect.  III. — Effects  of  Locke  in  England. 

The  “ Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding”  enjoyed,  from  its 
very  first  publication,  a reputation  almost  unparalleled  in  the 
whole  history  of  philosophy.  The  principles  there  advocated 
with  so  much  acuteness,  and  so  earnest  a love  of  truth,  became 
almost  universally  diffused ; but  unfortunately  they  fell  into  the 
hands  of  men  who,  being  entirely  wanting  m the  simplicity  of 
* Reid's  “ Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind,”  chap.  ii.  sec.  6,  7,  8,  9. 


96 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


mind,  and  the  sincere  piety  which  had  distinguished  their  author, 
appropriated  them  to  purposes  altogether  foreign  to  his  intentions. 

The  deistical  school  of  writers,  which  at  this  time  arose,  armed 
themselves  with  many  of  Locke’s  conclusions  in  order  to  enforce 
their  own  sceptical  opinions.  Collins  aimed  chiefly  at  establishing 
upon  a firm  basis  the  doctrine  of  necessity  ; Dodwell  struck  out 
boldly  into  the  path  of  materialism ; while  Mandeville,  assuming 
with  Locke,  that  there  are  no  innate  practical  principles  in  the 
human  mind,  dealt  a mischievous  blow  at  the  root  of  all  moral  dis- 
tinctions. From  hence  oi'iginated  some  of  the  most  acute  contro- 
versies which  the  history  of  mental  and  moral  science  presents, — 
controversies  which  summoned  the  ability  of  Stillingfleet,  the  wit 
and  elegance  of  Shaftesbury,  the  acuteness  of  Norris,  and  the 
gigantic  strength  of  Clarke,  in  opposition  to  the  immoral  and  irre- 
ligious tendencies,  which  seemed  likely  to  flow  from  the  empirical 
principles,  that  were  now  apparently  taking  so  firm  a hold  upon 
the  philosophic  spirit  of  the  age.  These,  however,  we  must  pass 
over,  as  their  names  are  better  known  in  the  departments  of  ethics 
and  theology  than  in  that  of  metaphysics : we  have  only  men- 
tioned them  in  order  to  show  the  more  immediate  effects  of  Locke’s 
philosophy  upon  the  literary  society  of  the  day,  and  to  indicate  the 
fact,  that  his  principles  were  neither  established  nor  developed 
without  the  earnest  protest  and  the  powerful  opposition  of  some 
of  the  first  thinkers  and  reasoners  of  that  period. 

The  next  really  philosophical  writer,  whom  we  find  carrying  out 
the  sensational  tendency  to  its  fuller  development,  is  David  Hart- 
ley. The  philosophy  of  Hartley  is  especially  worthy  of  attention, 
from  the  fact  of  its  being  the  fii'st  decided  attempt  we  know  of,  at 
combining  the  study  of  psychology  with  the  results  of  modern 
physiological  investigations.  Hartley  was  educated  at  Cambridge 
for  the  medical  profession,  and  was  led,  both  by  the  nature  of  his 
studies,  and  by  the  influence  of  the  metaphysical  school  represented 
in  that  university  by  Dr.  (afterwards  Bishop)  Law,  to  adopt  some 
of  the  more  extreme  principles  of  sensationalism.  His  first  attempt 
was  to  propound  a theory  of  sensation,  grounded  upon  an  anatom- 
ical inspection  of  the  neiwous  system.  Locke,  though  himself  of 
the  medical  profession,  had  never  ventured  to  speculate  upon  the 
method  by  which  sensations  are  communicated  to  the  mind ; re- 
garding the  subject  as  purely  hypothetical,  he  probably  never 
formed  an  opinion  upon  it,  but  left  it  untouched,  as  belonging  to 
that  mysterious  and  unknown  process,  which  connects  together 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  ENGLAND. 


97 


our  bodily  affections  and  mental  feelings.  Hartley,  on  the  con- 
trary, desirous  of  supplying  what  he  considered  a deficiency  in  the 
philosophy  of  Locke,  pi'oposed  to  account  for  the  phenomena  of 
sensation  by  certain  vibrations,  which  he  supposed  to  take  place 
in  the  nervous  system.*  The  vibratory  hypothesis  of  Hartley  is 
too  well  known  by  all  the  readers  of  modern  philosophy  to  require 
here  to  be  explained  at  any  length,  and  besides,  is  now  gone  so 
much  into  disrepute  as  hardly  to  require  any  refutation  ; we  shall 
content  ourselves,  therefore,  with  making  two  remarks  upon  it. 
The  first  is,  that  as  an  hypothesis  there  is  a great  improbability  of 
its  being  true,  owing  to  the  extreme  unfitness  of  the  soft  and  pulpy 
material  of  which  the  nerves  are  composed,  to  produce  or  prop- 
agate vibrations.  The  second  remark  is,  that  even  if  all  these 
physical  changes  and  vibratory  movements  were  proved  to  exist, 
yet  still  there  would  be  as  great  a chasm  as  ever  between  the  ma- 
terial condition  of  our  sensation  and  the  ultimate  mental  effect. 
To  say  that  the  feeling  itself  consists  in  these  nervous  movements 
is  absurd.  “ There  may  be,”  says  a writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Re- 
view, (Oct.  1806),  “ little  shakings  in  the  brain  for  anything  we 
know,  and  there  may  even  be  shakings  of  a different  kiud  accom- 
panying every  act  of  thought  or  perception ; but  that  the  shakings 
themselves  are  the  thoughts  or  perception,  we  are  so  far  from  ad- 
mitting, that  we  find  it  impossible  to  comprehend  what  can  be 
meant  by  the  assertion.  The  shakings  are  certain  throbbings, 
vibrations,  or  stirrings,  in  a whitish  half-tiuid  substance  like  custard, 
which  we  might  see  perhaps  or  feel  if  we  had  eyes  and  fingers 
sufficiently  small  or  fine  for  their  office.  But  what  should  we  see 
or  feel,  upon  the  supposition  that  we  could  detect  by  our  senses 
everything  that  actually  took  place  in  the  brain  ? We  should  see 
the  particles  of  the  substance  change  their  place  a little,  move  a 
little  up  or  down,  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  round  about,  or  zig- 
zag, or  in  some  other  course  or  direction.  This  is  all  that  we 
could  see  if  Dr.  Hartley’s  conjecture  were  proved  by  actual  ob- 
servation, because  this  is  all  that  exists  in  motion  according  to  our 
conception  o/  it,  and  all  that  we  mean  when  we  say  that  there  is 
motion  in  any  substance.  Is  it  intelligible,  then,  to  say  that  this 
motion,  the  whole  of  which  we  see  and  comprehend,  is  thought 
and  feeling,  and  that  thought  and  feeling  will  exist  wherever  we 
can  excite  a similar  motion  in  a similar  substance  ? In  our  hum- 
ble apprehension  the  proposition  is  not  so  much  false  as  utterly 
* Observations  on  Man,  chap.  i.  sec.  1. 

7 


98 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


unmeaning  and  incomprehensible.”  Admitting,  then,  the  truth  of 
Hartley’s  vihratiuncles,  we  get  no  nearer  than  ever  to  the  expla- 
nation of  the  mental  phenomena  of  sensation. 

Had  our  author  confined  his  philosophical  speculations  to  this 
theory,  his  name  would  probably  never  have  come  down  to  our 
own  day  in  the  annals  of  philosophy ; the  other  doctrines,  however, 
which  he  grounded  upon  it,  more  especially  that  of  association, 
have  given  him  a lasting  reputation  amongst  the  most  ingenious 
wi'iters  of  the  last  century.  The  law  of  the  association  of  Ideas 
was  first  clearly  hinted  at  by  Hobbes,  who  in  his  “ Leviathan” 
speaks  of  it  in  several  places,  under  the  phrases  “ trains  of  thought,” 
or  “ trains  of  imagination,”*  The  term  association  was  first  used 
by  Locke,  in  his  immortal  Essay,f  to  express  certain  connections 
which  exist  between  one  thought  and  another  in  the  flow  of  our 
consciousness.  Tucker,  in  his  “ Light  of  Nature  Pursued,”  used 
the  word  combination  as  better  suited  to  express  the  phenomena 
of  the  case : J but  Hartley  preferred  to  retain  the  original  word 
association,  although  at  the  same  time  he  made  a complete  revolu- 
tion in  the  meaning  which  was  to  be  attached  to  it.  In  order  to 
appreciate  this  change  of  meaning,  we  should  observe  that  Locke 
had  applied  the  term  “ association  of  ideas”  only  to  those  more 
striking  and  remarkable  combinations,  which  appear  to  be  rather 
out  of  the  ordinary  course  of  thought,  than  to  the  law  by  which 
the  whole  flow  of  out  consciousness  is  regulated.  Hartley,  on  the 
other  hand,  used  it  to  express  any  combination  of  thought  or  feel- 
ing whatever,  which  is  capaMe  of  becoming  habitual  by  means  of 
repetition. 

His  theory,  then,  as  nearly  as  we  can  convey  it  in  few  words,  is 
as  follows : The  objects  of  the  external  world  affect,  in  some 

manner,  the  extreme  ends  of  the  nerves,  which  spread  from  the 
brain  as  centre  to  every  part  of  the  body.  This  affection  produces 
a vibration,  which  is  continued  along  the  iierve  by  the  agency  of 
an  elastic  ether,  until  it  reaches  the  brain,  where  it  constitutes  the 
phenomenon  we  term  sensation.  When  a sensation  has  been  ex- 
perienced several  times,  the  vibratory  movement  from  which  it 
arises  acquires  the  tendency  to  repeat  itself  spontaneorsly,  even 
when  the  external  object  is  not  present.  These  repetitions  or  relics 
of  sensation  are  ideas,  which  in  their  turn  possess  the  property  of 
recalling  each  other  by  virtue  of  mutual  association  among  them- 

♦ Leviathan,  chap.  iii.  •(■  Essay,  Book  II.  chap,  xxxiii. 

t:  Light  of  Nature,  chap.  ix. 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  ENGLAND. 


99 


selves.*  According  to  this  doctrine,  for  example,  the  sight  of  an 
apple  will  recall  the  sensation  formerly  produced  by  the  taste,  thus 
giving  rise  to  the  idea  of  its  taste ; and  the  idea  of  the  taste  again 
will  give  rise  to  any  other  ideas  which  have  been  before  experi- 
enced at  the  same  time.  Thus  the  things  to  which  association 
applies,  Hartley  considers  to  be  these  three — sensations,  ideas,  and 
muscular  movements  (emotions  being  completely  confounded  with 
sensations,  and  therefore  not  being  mentioned  separately).  These 
classes  of  phenomena  having  been  previously  experienced  together, 
may  recall  each  other  at  any  time  or  in  any  order — a fact  which 
our  author  briefly  expresses  by  the  following  law.  “ If  any  sensa- 
tion A,  idea  B,  or  muscular  motion  C,  be  associated  a sufficient 
number  of  times  with  any  other  sensation  D,  idea  E,  or  muscular 
motion  F,  it  will  at  last  excite  the  simple  idea  belonging  to  the 
sensation  D,  the  very  idea  E,  or  the  very  muscular  motion  F.”  So 
much  then  concerning  association  generally. f 

Passing  over  Hartley’s  classification  of  the  laws  of  association, 
I shall  only  stop  to  notice  one  principle,  w'hich  he  makes  of  su- 
preme importance,  and  that  is  the  law  of  transference.  The  nature 
of  this  law  is  as  follows.  An  idea  is  sometimes  associated  with 
another  thi’ough  the  medium  of  a third  ; but  in  process  of  time 
this  intermediate  idea  may  be  disregarded,  and  yet  the  connection 
between  the  first  and  third  may  notwithstanding  remain.  Thus 
the  idea  of  pleasure,  which  is  so  indissolubly  connected  with 
money,  arises  from  the  conveniences  which  it  is  able  to  procure, 
while  in  the  mind  of  the  miser  the  conveniences  are  lost  sight  of, 
and  the  very  possession  of  the  money  itself  is  regarded  as  containing 
the  whole  enjoyment.  In  this  way  Hartley  accounts  for  almost  all 
the  emotions  and  passions  of  the  human  mind.  The  domestic 
affections,  for  instance,  arise  from  the  transference  of  the  pleasure 
derived  from  parental  kindness  to  the  parent  itself ; the  social  and 
patriotic  affections  from  transferring  the  pleasures  of  society  to  the 
country  which  affords  them ; in  like  manner  also  the  moral  and 
religious  affections,  the  love  of  virtue  and  the  love  of  God,  arise 
from  the  pleasures  connected  with  virtuous  and  pious  conduct, 
being  transferred  to  the  law  of  action,  or  to  the  supreme  Lawgiver 
from  whom  these  pleasures  have  emanated.  In  this  way  Hartley 
expands  his  principle  of  association,  until  it  affords  him  an  expla- 

* Observations  on  Man,  chap.  i.  sec  2. 

t For  the  full  description  of  the  generation  of  ideas  by  association,  see  chap,  i sec.  2 
and  3. 


100 


MODERN  rHILOSOPIIY. 


nation,  more  or  less  clearly,  of  all  the  multifarious  phenomena  of 
man’s  consciousness.*' 

The  subordinate  effects  of  these  principles  are  easy  to  be  imag- 
ined. If  all  our  ideas  are  but  relics  of  sensations,  and  all  excited 
spontaneously  by  the  laws  of  association,  it  is  abundantly  evident 
that  the  power  of  the  will  must  be  a nonentity,  that  man  can  really 
have  no  control  over  his  own  mind,  that  he  is  the  creature  of  irre- 
sistible necessity.  Hartley  was  accordingly  a firm  necessarian. f 
Another  natural  effect  of  the  theory  of  vibrations  is  materialism. 
I am  aware  that  Hartley  is  not  chargeable  with  maintaining  this 
doctrine  ; his  sincere  religious  character,  coupled  with  gi'eat  acute- 
ness in  philosophical  thinking,  held  him  back  from  admitting  a 
system  which  can  seldom  be  united  with  deep  religious  feelings, 
never  with  eminent  metaphysical  abilities.  But  that  this  philosophy 
naturally  led  to  materialistic  views  in  others,  whose  minds  were 
not  under  the  same  restraints  as  his  own,  was  abundantly  proved 
by  the  school  to  which  he  gave  origin.  A third  effect  of  the  Hart- 
leian  metaphysics  was  a bold  defence  of  nominalism,  which,  though 
a matter  of  minor  consequence  in  comparison  with  those  above- 
mentioned,  yet  sufficiently  indicated  the  tendency  of  the  whole 
system. J 

That  there  is  gi’eat  value  to  be  attached  to  much  which  Hartley 
has  drawn  from  the  law  of  association,  and  that  he  has  afforded  an 
explanation  of  many  phenomena,  before  very  imperfectly  under- 
stood, cannot  be  denied.  The  very  ardor,  however,  with  which  he 
threw  himself  into  his  system,  and  the  very  closeness  with  which 
he  analyzed  the  facts  of  the  case,  necessarily  imparted  a one-sid- 
edness to  his  philosophy,  and  led  to  the  neglect  of  some  other  facts 
equally  important.  The  ground-principles  of  our  intellectual  life 
— the  fundamental  conceptions,  without  which  even  sensations 
could  not  be  formed  into  any  definite  ideas  whatever,  all  these  were 
overlooked ; the  powers  of  the  will,  as  exhibited  in  the  working  of 
the  intellectual  emotions,  were  summarily  reduced  to  the  category 
of  sensation ; and  thus  perception,  judgment,  memory,  all  our  ab- 
stract ideas,  and  all  our  moral  feelings,  were  alike  consolidated 
together  as  the  natural  effect  of  the  great  law  of  association,  and 
all  shown  to  emanate  from  the  vibrations  of  the  nervous  system ! 
From  these  considerations  it  becomes  evident  how  important  a 
link  the  writings  of  Hartley  formed  in  the  chain  of  those  causes 

* See  Observations  on  Man,  chap.  iv.  sec.  4,  5,  6. 

t See  his  chap,  on  “ The  Mechanism  of  the  Human  Mind.” 

Observations,  chap.  iii.  sec.  i. 


EFFECTS  OP  LOCKE  IN  ENGLAND. 


101 


bv  which  the  philosophy  of  sensation  was  aided  on  its  road  to  com- 
plete empiricism.  The  result  of  those  writings,  indeed,  soon 
showed  that  having  conducted  his  speculations  to  the  very  verge 
of  materialism,  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  prevent  those,  whom  he 
had  carried  along  with  him  in  his  reasoning,  from  overstepping  the 
boundary.* 

The  principles  of  Hartley  found,  shortly  after  his  death,  an  able 
and  zealous  expositor  in  Dr.  Priestley.  The  name  of  Priestley 
holds  a position  in  the  scientific  history  of  our  country,  which  his 
greatest  opponents  might  envy,  and  with  which  his  most  ardent  ad- 
mirers may  be  content.  It  is  not  now,  however,  for  the  first  time 
remarked,  that  the  minds  best  fitted  for  prosecuting  the  labors  of 
experimental  philosophy,  are  by  no  means  those  from  which  we  ex- 
pect light  to  be  cast  into  the  more  obscure  region  of  metaphysical 
analysis.  Priestley’s  mind  was  objective  to  an  extreme ; he  could 
fix  his  faith  upon  nothing,  which  had  not  the  evidence  of  sense  in 
some  way  or  other  impressed  upon  it.  Science,  morals,  politics, 
philosophy,  religion,  all  came  to  him  under  the  type  of  the  sensa- 
tional. The  most  spiritual  ideas  were  obliged-  to  be  cast  into  a 
material  mould  before  they  could  commend  themselves  to  his  judg- 
ment or  conscience.  His  intellect  was  rapid  to  an  extraordinary 
degree ; he  saw  the  bearings  of  a question  according  to  his  own 
principles  at  a glance,  and  embodied  his  thoughts  in  volumes,  whilst 
many  other  men  would  hardly  have  sketched  out  their  plan.  All 
this,  though  admirable  in  the  man  of  action,  was  not  the  tempera- 
ment to  form  the  solid  metaphysician,  nay,  it  was  precisely  opposed 
to  that  deep  reflective  habit,  that  sinking  into  one’s  own  inmost  con- 
sciousness, from  which  alone  speculative  philosophy  can  obtain  light 
and  advancement.  With  such  tendencies  of  mind,  therefore,  and 
living  in  an  age,  the  whole  bearing  of  which  was  away  from  the 
ideal  to  the  sensational,  it  is  not  surprising  that  Priestley  entered 
with  energy  into  those  principles  of  Hartley,  from  which  he  hoped 
to  reduce  all  mental  science  to  a branch  of  physical  investigation. 

The  metaphysical  position  he  assumed,  may  be  fully  seen  in  his 
“ Examination  of  Reid,  Beattie,  and  Oswald ; ” in  fact,  it  is  summed 
up  in  one  extraordinary  sentence,  where  he  affirms,  that  “ something 
has  been  done  in  the  field  of  knowledge  by  Descartes,  very  much 

* The  relation  which  Hartley  bears  to  Hobbes,  has  been  given  by  Mr.  Hallam,  in  an 
eloquent  passage,  “ Lit.  of  Europe,”  vol.  ii.  p.  491. 

Many  notices  of  the  philosophy  of  Hartley  occur  in  various  parts  of  the  writings  of 
Stewart,  Brown,  Young,  and  Mackintosh.  By  all  these  writers  his  errors  have  been 
exposed  in  different  points  of  view,  and  his  real  merits  awarded. 


102 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


by  Mr.  Locke,  but  most  of  all  by  Dr.  Hartley,  who  has  thrown 
more  useful  light  upon  the  theory  of  mind,  than  Newton  did  upon 
the  theory  of  the  natural  world  !”  After  this  acknowledgment  of 
admiration  towards  the  writings  of  Hartley,  of  course  we  could 
hardly  expect  to  find  anything  else  in  the  metaphysical  works  of 
Priestley,  than  a second  edition  of  the  Hartleian  philosophy,  re- 
vised, corrected,  and  expanded  into  a more  mature  form.  Such, 
in  fact,  was  precisely  the  case.  The  doctrine  of  philosophical 
necessity  was  more  fully  argued  and  more  systematically  enforced ; 
utilitarian  morals  were  maintained  upon  a broader  basis,  and  illus- 
trated by  more  copious  examples ; and  materialism,  from  which 
Hartley  himself  had  shrunk  back,  was  now  openly  avowed.* 

Priestley  rested  the  truth  of  materialism  upon  two  deductions. 
The  first  was,  that  thought  and  sensation  are  essentially  the  same 
thing — that  the  whole  variety  of  our  ideas,  however  abstract  and 
refined  they  may  become,  are,  nevertheless,  but  modifications  of 
the  sensational  faculty.  This  doctrine,  we  shall  see,  had  been  more 
fully  maintained  in  France,  by  Condillac.  The  second  deduction 
was,  that  all  sensation,  and,  consequently,  all  thought,  arises  from 
the  affections  of  our  material  organization,  and,  therefore,  consists 
entirely  in  the  motion  of  the  material  particles  of  which  the  nerves 
and  brain  are  composed.  It  is  but  justice,  however,  here  to  add, 
that  Priestley  did  not  push  his  materialism  so  far  as  to  evolve  any 
conclusions  contrary  to  the  fundamental  principles  of  man’s 
natural  religion,  or  to  invalidate  the  evidences  of  a future  state. 
In  the  full  conviction  of  these  truths  he  both  lived  and  died.  To 
sum  up,  then,  the  precise  influence  of  Priestley  upon  the  progress 
of  sensationalism  in  our  own  country  in  a few  words,  we  may  say, 
that  he  succeeded  in  cutting  the  last  tie  which  had  held  Hartley  to 
the  poor  remains  of  spiritualism,  that  he  reduced  the  whole  phe- 
nomena of  mind  to  organic  processes,  the  mind  itself  to  a material 
organization,  and  mental  philosophy  to  a physical  science. 

It  might  be  expected,  perhaps,  that  we  should  pause  here  in  our 
history,  to  offer  some  remarks  upon  the  abuses  to  which  the  prin- 
ciple of  association  has  been  subjected  in  the  Hartleian  school  of 
philosophy,  and  to  show  how  many  of  the  simple  phenomena  of 
our  intellectual  and  moral  being  have  been  there  explained  by 
other  phenomena  far  more  obscure  and  complex  than  themselves  ; 
but  as  this  subject  will  come  more  fully  under  our  consideration 

♦ See  his  “ Doctrine  of  Philosophical  Necessity  Explained,” — and  Disquisitions 
relating  to  Matter  and  Spirit,”  sec,  3,  4,  5,  6,  Also  his  work  entitled  “Hartley’s 
Theory  of  the  Human  Mind,  with  Essays  relating  to  the  subject  of  it.” 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  ENGLAND. 


103 


in  a future  chapter,  we  must  waive  the  discussion  of  it  for  the 
present,  and  go  on  to  exhibit  the  final  issue  to  which  this  sensa- 
tional tendency  led. 

Priestley  had  denied  the  separate  reality  of  mind  or  rather  spirit 
in  man,  but  had  not  rejected  the  existence  of  it  altogether  in  the 
universe.  To  do  this,  required  another  reasoner  still  more  bold  in 
urging  his  arguments  to  their  ultimate  conclusions,  and  less  under 
the  restraints  of  early  religious  associations.  Such  a reasoner  ap- 
peared in  the  person  of  Dr.  Darwin,  who  determined  to  banish 
spirit  altogether  from  the  universe,  to  make  the  infinite  and  omni- 
present mind  itself  synonymous  with  the  all-pervading  powers  of 
an  impersonal  nature,  and  thus  to  trample  the  most  cherished  of 
man’s  religious  hopes  under  the  feet  of  a materialistic  unbelief. 
This  we  may  regard  as  the  culminating  point  of  sensationalism. 
While  idealism  proceeds  onwards  in  its  conclusions,  till  it  has 
banished  matter,  nay,  everything  else  but  the  one  eternal  mind,  in 
its  various  developments,  out  of  existence,  this  opposed  system  of 
philosophy  does  not  stop  in  the  other  direction,  till  it  has  reduced 
all  mind,  even  the  infinite  mind  itself,  to  nature  and  organization. 

In  conclusion,  the  influence  which  sensationalism  exerted  gen- 
erally upon  the  age,  may  be  seen  in  its  bearing  upon  many  of  the 
subordinate  branches  of  philosophy.  To  take  the  philosophy  of 
language  as  an  instance,  we  have  in  Horne  Tooke  the  gramma- 
rian of  this  school.  It  is  needless  to  remind  the  reader  of  the 
ultra-nominalism  which  he  professed  ; of  the  ingenious  attempt  he 
made,  in  his  “ EnBu  ntegoevta”  to  derive  every  word  from  some 
material  symbol,  and  of  the  inference  he  drew,  that  our  reason 
itself  is  the  gradual  result  of  language,  instead  of  language  being 
the  direct  product  of  our  reason.* 

The  moralist  and  politician  again,  of  the  same  philosophy,  ap- 
peared in  the  person  of  Jeremy  Bentham,  who  stands  forth  as  one 
of  the  most  uncompromising  advocates  of  the  utilitarian  system  of 
ethics.  Archdeacon  Paley,  another  advocate  of  utilitarian  morals, 
might  also  be  mentioned  as  having  philosophized  under  the  guid- 
ance of  Locke  and  of  his  most  devoted  follower,  Abraham  Tucker, 
and  as  having  erected  his  ethical  system  upon  principles  derived 
from  these  sources.  The  very  names  of  Bentham  and  Paley, 
however,  remind  us  that  we  are  already  upon  the  confines  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  that  we  must  cease  to  pursue  the  results 

* An  able  reconsideration  of  some  important  points  of  the  philosophy  of  language,  will 
be  found  in  Mr.  B.  H.  Smart’s  “ Outlines  of  Sematology.” 


104 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  sensationalism  in  our  own  country  any  furthei-,  until  we  come 
to  look  more  particularly  into  the  characteristics  of  the  present  age. 


Sect.  IV. — Effects  of  Locke  in  France  and  Germany. 

Whilst  the  philosophy  of  sensationalism  was  thus  developing 
itself  in  England,  a similar  progress  was  made  in  France  with  still 
greater  energy  and  far  more  extensive  reputation.  The  “ Essay 
on  the  Human  Understanding”  being  soon  after  its  appearance 
translated  and  extensively  read  throughout  the  whole  circle  of  the 
literati  of  that  country,  produced  quite  as  great  an  impression 
there,  as  it  did  on  this  side  the  Channel.  That  there  should  arise, 
therefore,  in  France,  as  well  as  in  England,  defenders  and  ex- 
pounders of  Locke’s  philosophy,  was  a matter  almost  of  necessity. 
The  first  man  who  undertook  this  task  was  Condillac,  a writer 
who  is  universally  placed  at  the  head  of  the  whole  modern  school 
of  the  French  sensationalism.  Condillac,  like  Hartley  in  our  own 
country,  came  forth  as  a professed  disciple  and  warm  admirer  of 
Locke,  but  in  process  of  time  departed  equally  far,  if  not  still  far- 
ther, than  Hartley  himself,  from  the  principles  of  his  master.  The 
course,  indeed,  which  he  took,  was  a very  different  one  from  that 
of  the  Cambridge  philosopher ; but  whilst  he  avoided  some  of  the 
faults  into  which  that  philosopher  fell,  he  went  perhaps  with  still 
hastier  steps  towards  the  region  of  extreme  empiricism. 

The  first  effort  which  Condillac  made  in  the  department  of  phi- 
losophy was  a treatise  on  the  origin  of  human  knowledge,  (“  Essai 
sur  I’Origine  des  Connaissances  Humaines,”)  the  very  title  of 
which  is  sufficient  to  indicate  his  affinity  with  Locke ; indeed  the 
work  itself  may  be  regarded  as  a kind  of  reproduction  with  some 
modifications  (not  improvements)  of  the  “ Essay  on  the  Human 
Understanding.”  The  chief  point  in  which  we  here  trace  the 
strong  tendency  of  Condillac’s  mind  towards  sensationalism  is  in 
the  explanation  he  gives  of  reflection,  as  one  of  the  tw'o  sources  of 
our  ideas.  Locke  had  made  a very  clear  distinction  between  the 
passive  and  the  active  faculties;  he  saw  plainly  that  whilst  sensa- 
tions are  produced  quite  independently  of  ourselves,  there  are 
other  powers  which  are  brought  into  exercise  by  our  own  will.  In 
his  philosophy,  then,  sensation  is  the  passive  source  from  which 
we  derive  ideas,  reflection  the  active  one ; in  the  former  case  ideas 
are,  as  it  were,  put  into  us  from  without,  the  mind  meanwhile  ex- 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  FRANCE. 


105 


isting  simply  in  a receptive  state ; in  the  latter  case  the  active 
faculties  are  voluntarily  exerted,  and  from  the  material  afforded 
by  the  senses  construct  a thousand  complex  ideas  for  themselves. 
Condillac,  although  at  first  assuming  with  Locke,*  that  these  are 
the  two  only  sources  of  our  knowledge,  manages  in  the  course  of 
his  treatise  so  completely  to  modify  and  transform  the  nature  of 
the  active  faculties,  that  everything  really  distinguishing  them 
from  sensation  entirely  disappears.  First  of  all,  he  identifies  per- 
ception with  consciousness,  making  sensation  (as  we  also  regard 
it)  the  bare  feeling  arising  from  any  external  object ; while  per- 
ception (which  is  generally  and  correctly  regarded  as  an  active 
intellectual  process)  is  made  to  be  simply  the  self-consciousness  of 
that  feeling.  Beginning  then  with  sensation,  we  have  perception 
used  to  mean  the  consciousness  of  sensation,  then  the  other  facul- 
ties, involved  in  the  term  reflection  as  used  in  the  Lockian  sense, 
are  stripped  of  their  active  character,  until  the  whole  distinction 
between  sensation  and  reflection  is  suppressed,  the  natural  activity 
of  the  human  mind  virtually  denied,  and  every  inward  phenome- 
non thus  brought  down  to  the  level  of  our  passive  and  sensational 
feelings. t Those  absolute  and  pure  conceptions  of  reason  which 
Locke  labored  so  manfully  to  prove  compatible  with  his  own 
theory,  Condillac  explains  with  the  greatest  ease.  Relative  and 
absolute  are  to  him  one  and  the  same  thing.  “ Ideas,”  he  says, 
“ are  absolute  when  we  stop  at  them,  and  make  them  the  object 
of  our  reflection  without  refen'ing  them  to  others  ; but  when  we 
consider  them  as  subordinate  to  others,  we  call  them  relative J 
of  such  nature  is  the  flimsy  yet  at  the  same  time  elegant  analysis 
by  which  Condillac  disposes  of  the  most  grave  and  subtile  meta- 
physical questions. 

The  most  ingenious  part  of  this  work,  perhaps,  is  that  in  which  he 
treats  of  the  influence  of  language  upon  our  mental  phenomena.  In 
his  theory  on  this  question  he  coincides  to  a great  extent  with  Horne 
Tooke,  making  language  the  actual  source  from  which  many  of  our 
faculties  are  produced.  Contemplation,  recollection,  imagination, 
judgment,  reasoning,  all  those  powers  in  a word  which  render  the 
human  mind  superior  to  that  of  the  lower  animals,  he  supposes  to 
grow  up  into  distinctive  faculties  by  the  use  of  language. § In  this 

* Essai  sur  I’Origine,  &c.,  chap  i. 

t Ibid.  sec.  ii  chap.  i.  ^ xiii.  ffluvres,  Paris,  1798.  “ Ainsi  la  perception  et  la  con- 

science ne  sont  q’une  meme  operation  sous  deux  noms.”  Compare  § xvi.,  in  which  a 
summary  of  his  doctrine  is  afforded  us. 

t Essai  sur  I’Origine,  &c.,  sec.  iii.  § xiv. 

Ibid.  Partie  II.  sec.  i.  chaps,  ix.  and  x. 


106 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


theory,  we  conceive,  he  falls  anew  into  what  we  have  seen  already 
to  be  the  perpetual  blunder  of  sensationalism,  namely,  the  substi- 
tution of  the  occasion  for  the  cause.  Language,  we  admit,  is  the 
instrument  by  which  most  of  our  complex  mental  operations  are 
perfected,  but  it  is  far  from  being  the  basis  of  them ; on  the  con- 
trary, the  very  fact  of  our  being  able  to  use  language  at  all,  is  a 
sufficient  proof  of  the  prior  existence  of  certain  faculties  within  us, 
without  which  words  would  prove  utterly  unintelligible,  and  the 
most  perfect  language  appeal  to  man  no  more  than  it  does  to  a 
brute.  It  is,  however,  the  constant  tendency  of  sensationalism,  from 
its  first  commencement  to  its  complete  development,  to  lose  sight 
of  the  inherent  and  what  we  may  properly  term  innate  energies  of 
the  mind  ; and  then  to  attribute  the  phenomena  to  which  they  give 
rise,  to  the  outward  occasion  by  which  those  energies  are  brought 
into  play.  Language  is  the  direct  product  of  the  human  reason, 
as  created  by  God  ; but  when  it  is  once  formed,  then,  we  allow,  it 
begins  directly  to  react  upon  the  mind  which  gave  it  birth,  and 
thus  to  aid  it  in  its  still  further  advancement. 

With  this  brief  notice  we  must  pass  away  from  Condillac’s  first 
philosophical  production  to  another  of  a more  decided  character, 
and  which  certainly  lays  far  greater  claim  to  originality, — I mean 
his  treatise  on  Sensations  (“  Traite  des  Sensations”).  In  this 
work  Condillac  openly  released  himself  from  the  authority  of  Locke, 
took  up  boldly  the  position,  which  in  the  former  treatise  he  only 
seemed  to  be  aiming  at,  and  made  good  the  claim  to  which  he  as- 
pired, that  of  being  the  great  apostle  of  sensationalism  to  his  age. 
And  here  we  shall  be  better  able  to  point  out,  in  what  respect  our 
author  differs  from  Hartley,  and  to  compare  the  systems,  to  which 
they  have  respectively  given  rise,  with  each  other.  Locke  admit- 
ted as  an  ultimate  and  unresolvable  fact,  the  existence  of  certain 
intellectual  faculties,  of  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  he  gives  us 
a distinct  classification.  Hartley,  as  we  have  seen,  attempted  to 
account  for  all  these  faculties  on  the  principle  of  association  of 
ideas,  and  propounded  a theory  of  sensation,  based  upon  supposed 
vibrations  in  the  nervous  system,  by  which  the  whole  phenomena 
of  association  might  be  explained.  In  doing  this  he  entirely  con- 
founded (as  we  have  shown)  our  emotional  states  with  our  sensa- 
tional, and  having  done  so,  considered  himself  to  have  succeeded 
at  length  in  accounting  for  all  the  phenomena,  whether  of  sensation, 
intellection,  or  emotion,  by  means  of  his  favorite  vibratiuncles. 
Condillac,  although  starting  with  the  same  desire  of  simplifying 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  FRANCE. 


107 


what  Locke  had  left  unresolved,  and  of  finding  some  one  principle 
or  other  to  which  all  our  faculties  may  be  reduced,  very  soon  struck 
out  into  a different  route.  He  regarded  sensation  as  the  one  great 
unresolvable  fact  to  which  the  chief  attention  of  the  philosopher  is 
to  be  directed, — a fact  for  which  he  makes  no  attempt,  like  Hartley, 
to  account,  respecting  which  he  propounds  no  theory  whatever, 
but  which,  he  supposes,  we  may  take  as  the  secure  starting  point 
for  a complete  system  of  psychology.*  After  pointing  out  the  de- 
ficiency of  Locke,  in  not  discovering,  or  attempting  to  discover, 
the  principles  by  which  the  different  intellectual  operations,  such 
as  thinking,  reasoning,  knowing,  willing,  believing,  are  generated, 
he  proceeds  then  to  develop  his  own  theory  on  this  question,  by 
showing  them  to  be  nothing  more  or  less  than  transformed  sensa- 
tionsf 

The  method  by  which  this  is  proved  is  somewhat  of  the  follow- 
ing kind.  First,  let  us  assume  the  mind,  as  Locke  did,  to  be  a 
“ tabula  rasa.”  Next  let  a simple  sensation,  as  an  odor,  be  experi- 
enced. The  mind  at  once  becomes  occupied  with  the  new  feeling, 
and  then  commences  what  we  term  attention.  Attention,  there- 
fore, is  another  name  for  sensation.  After  a time  other  sensations 
are  experienced,  and  the  mind  becomes  occupied  with  those  which 
have  been,  as  well  as  with  those  which  are.  When  we  are  occu- 
pied with  those  which  have  been,  and  are  now  past,  we  term  it 
memory ; and  memory,  therefore,  is  no  other  than  a transformed 
sensation.  From  the  co-existence  of  past  and  present  sensations 
results  comparison,  which  is  no  other  than  a double  attention. 
The  comparison  of  diffei’ent  sensations,  again,  gives  rise  to  fidg- 
ment,  and  judgment  to  abstraction,  &c. ; so  that  all  our  intellectual 
powers,  one  after  the  other,  are  neither  more  nor  less  than  trans- 
formed sensations.  J A similar  coui’se  is  adopted  with  regard  to 
the  emotions.  Sensations  are  either  agreeable  or  disagi’eeable ; 
hence  arise  desire  and  aversion.  These  sensations,  however,  may 
refer  to  the  past,  the  present,  or  prospectively  to  the  future  ; from 
whence  spring  the  different  passions  of  remorse,  or  hope,  or  joy,  or 
fear, — in  a word,  the  whole  phenomena  of  our  emotional  nature. § 
Finally,  the  will  itself,  with  all  its  mighty  energies,  is  shown  to  be 
like  the  intellect,  nothing  more  than  a transformed  sensation. || 

To  illustrate  this  doctrine,  Condillac  supposes  a perfectly  organ- 

* Traite  des  Sensations.  See  the  opening  passage. 

t Traite  des  Sensations.  See  Extrait  raisonnc,  “ Precis  de  la  premiere  partie.” 

j:  Ibid.  Partie  I.  chap.  i.  ii. 

Traite  des  Sensations,  Partie  I.  chap.  iii.  II  Ibid.  Partie  I.  chap.  iii.  ^ 9. 


108 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ized  human  being  to  be  created,  incased  in  a marble  covering ; 
and  then,  proceeding  to  lift  this  covering,  he  attempts,  with  great 
ingenuity,  to  show  how  the  different  mental  phenomena  wmuld 
make  their  appearance  one  after  the  other,  as  the  impressions  of 
the  external  world  were  more  freely  admitted,  until  the  man  be- 
comes morally  and  intellectually  complete.  Now,  in  all  this  he 
has  marked  very  beautifully  the  various  occasions  upon  which  his 
statue  would  require  the  impulses  derived  from  the  external  world, 
in  order  to  bring  its  various  faculties  into  operation ; but  he  for- 
gets that  these  occasions  might  exist  forever,  and  be  eternally 
prompting  to  action,  but  that  no  intelligence  would  ever  result  un- 
less the  faculties  were  at  hand,  and  all  ready  constituted  for  react- 
ing upon  them.  Condillac  has,  in  fact,  from  the  very  first  step  of 
his  analysis,  in  which  he  explains  attention,  substituted  the  occa- 
sion for  the  cause.  No  doubt  our  experiencing  a sensation  is  the 
occasion  on  which  we  first  show  the  phenomenon  that  is  termed 
attention,  but  we  can  by  no  means  conclude  from  hence  that  sen- 
sation is  the  producing  cause  of  attention,  and  affords  all  the  ele- 
ments of  which  it  consists.  Sensation  is  a purely  passive  thing  ; 
we  experience  it  just  as  long  as  the  organic  impression  lasts,  and 
no  longer  ; attention  is  something  active  and  voluntary,  which  we 
can  continue  or  suspend  at  pleasure  ; the  one  is  a production  from 
without,  the  other  an  energy  from  within ; the  one  is  necessary, 
the  other  free ; the  one  is  the  action  of  the  outward  world  upon 
the  inward,  the  other  is  the  reaction  of  the  inward  world  upon  the 
outward.  In  the  very  first  step  of  his  reasoning,  therefore,  Con- 
dillac makes  a fatal  oversight  which  vitiates  all  the  rest,  and  de- 
prives the  whole  superstructure  of  sensationalism,  as  he  had  erected 
it,  of  any  solid  foundation.* 

The  next  step  of  his  analysis  is  not  more  successful,  that,  namely, 
in  which  he  derives  the  various  faculties  of  memory,  comparison, 
judgment,  &c.,  from  attention.  When  we  attend  to  a sensation 
which  has  been,  he  argues,  we  are  said  to  remember.  But  how, 
we  ask,  are  we  to  do  this  ? By  what  means  is  the  sensation  re- 
tained while  others  are  rushing  in  upon  us  ? Something  more  than 
mere  attention  is  assuredly  requisite  to  account  for  this  power  of 
retention.  Again,  comparison  is  said  to  be  a double  attention  ; but 
is  the  whole  of  what  we  mean  by  comparison  comprised  in  the 
mere  perception  of  the  two  things  compared  ? Far  from  it.  I 

* For  a full  examination  of  Condillac’s  main  positions,  see  Cousin’s  “ Cours  d’His- 
toire  de  la  Philosophie  Morale,”  Lefon  iii. 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  FKANCE. 


109 


can  attend  to  two  things  without  comparing  them,  or  without 
being  able  to  compare  them  ; comparison  supposes  a balancing  of 
relations,  i.  e.  a judgment ; mere  perception  supposes  nothing  of 
the  kind.  Still  less  is  it  possible  to  reduce  the  power  of  the  will 
to  this  source — a power  which,  in  its  conscious  freedom  and  spon- 
taneous activity,  is  as  unlike  the  passive  phenomena  of  sensation 
as  life  differs  from  death.  But  into  this  discussion  we  must  not 
enter ; enough,  we  trust,  has  been  said  already  just  to  point  out  the 
fundamental  error  of  Condillac’s  philosophy,  enough  to  show  that 
however  energetically  you  may  pour  in  impressions  from  without, 
the  supposed  statue,  though  replete  with  life,  must  still  remain 
mentally  dark  and  inactive,  until  the  spark  of  reason,  and  the 
native  power  of  the  will,  begin  to  react  upon  them.  To  sum  up, 
then,  in  few  words,  the  influence  of  Condillac  upon  the  progress 
of  philosophy,  we  should  say  that  he  began  a consistent  disciple 
of  Locke,  and  ended  (in  everything  but  drawing  its  last  conclu- 
sions) an  advocate  of  complete  sensationalism. 

Another  well-known  writer  of  the  eighteenth  century,  was 
Charles  Bonnet,  (born  at  Geneva  1720,  died  there  1793,)  a man 
whose  fame  was  only  second  to  Condillac  himself  as  the  author  of 
a vigorous  and  eloquent  vindication  of  the  sensational  philosophy. 
His  first  wi'itings  were  devoted  to  the  illustration  of  nature,  of 
whose  beauty  he  had  a deep  perception.  Rising,  however,  in 
regular  gradation  from  nature  to  man,  he  produced  his  “Essai 
Analytique  sur  les  Facultes  de  I’Ame.”  In  this  work  he  treads 
somewhat  closely  in  the  footsteps  of  Condillac,  using  even  the 
same  illustration  of  the  statue,  and  seeking  to  study  in  the  same 
way  the  material  that  each  of  the  senses  supplies  towards  the 
formation  of  our  ideas.  In  two  respects,  however,  there  is  a de- 
cided difference  between  them.  Bonnet,  unlike  Condillac,  and 
much  in  the  same  manner  as  Hartley,  employed  many  physio- 
logical observations  to  aid  his  mental  analysis.  “ I have  put  into 
my  book,”  he  remarks  in  the  preface,  “ a great  deal  of  physics  and 
very  little  of  metaphysics  ; but  in  truth,  what  could  I say  of  the 
mind,  in  itself?  we  know  it  so  little  ! Man  is  a mixed  being  ; he 
only  has  ideas  by  the  intervention  of  the  senses  ; and  even  his 
most  abstract  notions  are  derived  from  them.  It  is  upon  his  body, 
and  by  his  body,  that  the  mind  acts.  It  is  necessary,  then,  always 
to  come  back  to  physics  as  to  the  first  origin  of  all  which  the  mind 
experiences ; we  know  no  more  what  an  idea  of  the  mind  is,  than 
the  mind  itself ; but  we  know  that  our  ideas  are  attached  to  cer 


110 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


tain  fibres ; we  are  able,  then,  to  reason  upon  these  fibres  because 
vve  see  them ; we  are  able  thus  to  study  a little  their  movements, 
the  results  of  their  movements,  and  the  bonds  they  have  among 
themselves.”  Such  is  the  use  which  Bonnet  proposed  to  make 
of  his  physiological  researches  in  the  investigation  of  the  human 
mind. 

In  another  respect,  however.  Bonnet  far  surpassed  Condillac,  and 
that  is  in  his  resistance  of  the  theory  of  transformed  sensations, 
and  his  recognition  of  the  mind’s  activity  in  the  phenomena  of  at- 
tention and  volition.  In  this  respect  he  returns  to  Locke’s  stand- 
point, and  even  employs  the  term  reflection  to  designate  the  active, 
in  opposition  to  the  passive  phenomena  of  the  mind.  Bonnet  was 
far  from  adopting  the  more  extreme  results  of  sensationalism  ; and 
it  was  apparently  to  prevent  its  tendency  from  being  carried  too 
far  that  he  wrote  his  “ Palingenesie  Philosophique,”  in  which  he 
has  advocated  the  immortality  of  the  souls  both  of  men  and  ani- 
mals, and  carried  the  idea  of  development  in  nature  to  such  an  ex- 
tent, as  to  imagine  that  plants  may  become  animals,  animals  men, 
and  men  angels. 

Condillac  and  Bonnet  left  the  position  of  speculative  philosophy 
in  France  much  in  the  same  state  as  Hartley  did  in  England  ; they 
all  laid  down  the  ground  principles  of  sensationalism,  but  all,  owing 
to  their  good  sense  and  religious  feeling,  hesitated  to  draw  the  ulti- 
mate conclusions.  Those  conclusions,  however,  soon  made  their 
appearance  in  France  to  a much  greater  extent  than  they  have 
ever  done  in  England ; so  much  so,  indeed,  that  they  seemed  for  a 
time  entirely  to  absorb  all  other  philosophy.  Flelvetius,  Saint  Lam- 
bert, and  Condorcet,  followed  immediately  in  the  track  that  had 
been  thus  pointed  out,  and  applied  the  new  psychological  princi- 
ples, which  had  burst  with  such  eclat  upon  society,  not  only  to 
philosophy  generally,  but  more  especially  to  the  department  of 
ethics.  First  of  all,  Helvetius,  carrying  this  notion  of  empiricism 
to  the  farthest  extremity  it  would  admit,  founded  upon  it  a moral 
system  of  undisguised  selfishness.  His  primary  position  is,  that 
man  owes  all  his  superiority  over  the  lower  animals  to  the  superior 
organization  of  his  body ; indeed  he  pushes  this  principle  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  affirm,  that  the  human  hand  is  the  great  agent  in 
the  world’s  civilization,  and  that,  but  for  its  capability,  we  should 
never  have  risen  above  the  brutes  around  us.  Proceeding  from 
this  point,  his  chief  positions  are  briefly  these.  That  all  minds 
are  originally  equal ; that  every  faculty  and  emotion  they  possess 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  FRANCE, 


111 


is  derived  from  sensation ; that  pleasure  is  the  only  good ; and  that 
self-interest  is  the  true  ground  of  morality,  upon  which  the  whole 
framework  of  individual  action  and  political  right  depends.* 

Saint  Lambert  followed  closely  in  the  steps  of  Helve  tins,  treating 
first  of  the  nature  of  man,  and  then  of  his  duties.  With  regard  to 
human  nature,  he  maintains  that  man,  when  he  first  enters  upon  the 
stage  of  life,  is  simply  an  organized  and  sentient  mass,  and  that  what- 
ever feelings  or  thoughts  he  may  afterwards  acquire,  still  they  are 
simply  different  manifestations  of  the  sensational  faculty,  occasioned 
by  the  pressure  of  his  various  wants  and  necessities.  With  regard 
to  ethics,  he  maintains  that,  as  man  possesses  only  sensations,  his 
sole  good  must  be  personal  enjoyment,  his  only  duty  the  attainment 
of  it ; and  that,  as  we  may  be  mistaken  as  to  what  objects  are  really 
adapted  to  promote  our  pleasure,  the  safest  rule  by  which  we  can 
judge  of  duty  in  particular  cases  is  public  opinion.  In  his  “ Cate- 
chisme  Universel,”  a book  intended  for  public  education,  he  has 
divided  the  whole  mass  of  man’s  duty  into  three  classes — his  duty 
to  himself,  to  his  own  family,  and  to  society  at  large;  while  the 
duties  of  religion  are  never  mentioned,  and  the  very  name  of  God 
altogether  excluded.  Condorcet’s  fundamental  doctrine  of  ethics 
is  the  present  perfectibility  of  mankind,  both  individually  and  so- 
cially, by  means  of  education ; a doctrine  which  he  proposes  to 
substitute  in  place  of  the  sanctions  both  of  morality  and  religion, 
as  the  great  regenerating  principle  of  human  nature-f 

The  names  of  brilliant  writers,  however,  crowd  so  thick  upon 
us  in  this  prolific  period  of  French  literature,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  do  more  than  select  those  which  give  a connected  view  of  the 
regular  development  of  the  sensationalistic  tendency.  The  crown- 
ing piece  in  which  the  ultimate  results  of  the  whole  system  are 
concentrated,  was  presented  to  the  world  by  the  Baron  d’Holbach, 
in  his  “ Systeme  de  la  Nature,”  a work  in  which  materialism,  fatal- 

* Helvetius  published  his  first  work,  “ De  I’Esprit,”  in  1758.  It  excited  the  greatest 
attention  throughout  Europe,  and  encountered  much  opposition.  His  other  work, 
“ De  I’Homme,”  was  published  posthumously.  The  former  is  more  theoretical,  the 
later  more  practical; — but  both  of  them  are  founded  upon  the  principles  we  have 
indicated. 

t Marie-Jean-Antoine-Nicolas-Caritat,  Marquis  de  Condorcet,  was  born  in  1743  at 
Ribemont.  In  early  life  he  gave  indications  of  extraordinary  powers,  excelled  as  a 
mathematician,  was  the  friend  of  d’Alembert,  and  a contributor  to  the  Encyclopaedia. 
He  was  proscribed  by  the  Convention  in  1793,  and  during  his  concealment  wrote  his 
chief  work,  “ Esquisse  d’un  Tableau  Historique  des  Progres  de  I’Esprit  Humain” — the 
object  of  which  is  to  depict  the  progress  of  humanity  towards  social  perfection  up  to  his 
period,  and  point  out  the  march  it  was  still  to  take  until  its  high  destiny  should  be 
accomplished.  His  philosophy  was  entirely  sensational,  his  ethics  Epicuraen,  and  his 
hopes  for  man  based  altogether  upon  physical  improvement.  He  poisoned  himself  in 
1794,  to  save  the  ignominy  of  imprisonment  or  execution. 


112 


MODERN  PHILOSOrilY. 


ism,  and  avowed  atlieism,  all  combine  to  form  a view  of  human 
nature,  which  even  Voltaire  pronounced  to  be  illogical  in  its  de- 
ductions, absurd  in  its  physics,  and  abominable  in  its  morality.* 
The  whole  history  of  the  literary  society  of  France,  during  the 
latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  is,  in  fact,  but  a comment 
upon  the  progress  of  sensationalism  towards  its  ultimate  climax. 
The  school  of  Voltaire  shows  us  the  effects  of  it  while  still  incom- 
plete, shrinking,  as  it  yet  did,  i’rom  that  hard  materialism,  that  blind 
fatality,  and  that  daring  atheism,  to  which  it  afterwards  attained. 
But  the  way  to  all  this  was  already  prepared ; the  bud  was  already 
formed,  which  only  needed  time  to  expand  in  the  full  light  of  day, 
in  oi'der  to  show  its  colors  in  their  very  deepest  dye.  In  short,  let 
any  one  view  the  brilliant  circles  of  talent  and  impiety,  which  at 
once  enlivened  and  disgraced  the  French  capital — circles  rendered 
famous  by  the  wit  and  learning  of  d’Alembert,  Diderot,  Dupuis, 
Baron  de  Grimm,  Galiani,  Madame  d’Epinay,  not  to  mention  others 
equally  celebrated  in  the  literary  world,  and  he  has  a complete 
refleciion,  as  from  a mirror,  of  the  philosophy  of  sensationalism 
when  expanded  into  all  its  various  ramifications,  and  at  the  same 
time  brought  down  to  the  level  of  daily  life. 

But  the  great  literary  manifestation  of  that  age  and  country,  I 
mean  the  French  Encyclopaedia  of  Sciences,  may  be  regarded  as 
the  most  formal  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  its  philosophy.  Nature, 
in  her  outward  manifestations,  is  the  foundation  of  all  its  researches, 
man  is  to  it  but  a mass  of  organization,  mind  the  development  of 
our  sensations,  morality  self-interest,  and  God  the  diseased  fiction 
of  an  unenlightened  and  enthusiastic  age.  The  whole  intellect 
being  thus  concentrated  upon  the  outward  and  material,  gave 
rise,  it  is  true,  to  the  noblest  discoveries  in  the  department  of 
physical  science ; but,  at  the  same  time,  religion,  alas ! was  dis- 
owned, morality  degraded,  and  man  himself  made  but  a feeble  link 
in  the  great  chain  of  events,  by  which  nature  is  inevitably  accom- 
plishing her  blind  but  glorious  designs.  The  storm  of  the  Revolu- 
tion to  which  these  principles,  in  their  political  bearing,  had  not  a 
little  tended,  broke  in  upon  this  scene  of  philosophical  irreligion, 
from  the  confusion  of  which  a fresh  and  regenerating  element 
sprang  up,  which  has  given  to  the  nineteenth  century  a new  state 
of  society,  a new  political  constitution,  and,  as  we  shall  hei’eafter 
see,  a new  philosophy  likewise. 

* The  Englisli  reader  will  find  this  work  well  described,  and  ably  though  briefly 
analyzed,  in  a note  appended  to  Lord  Brougham’s  “ Discourse  on  Natural  Theology.’ 


EFFECTS  OF  LOCKE  IN  FRANCE, 


113 


Before  concluding  this  chapter,  we  must  just  hint  at  the  fact, 
that  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  in  addition  to  its  mighty  influence 
upon  England  and  France,  penetrated  also  into  Germany.  The 
court  of  Frederick  the  Great  gathered  around  it  many  of  the  first 
literary  characters  of  France,  and  thus  afforded  a channel  by 
which  the  writings  of  Locke,  together  with  those  of  his  disciples, 
flowed  into  that  country.  Without  occupying  any  space  in  de- 
scribing the  works  of  Feder,  of  his  pupil  Tittel,  of  Weisshaupt, 
and  of  others  who  are  but  little  known  in  this  country,  I may  just 
mention  that  Herder  and  Tiedemann,  both  celebrated  for  their 
great  services  in  elucidating  the  history  of  philosophy,  belonged,  in 
a certain  degree,  to  the  school  of  Locke.  Sensationalism,  how- 
ever, played  but  a feeble  part  in  this  country,  as  it  was  soon 
eclipsed  by  the  gi'eat  hero  of  idealism,  who,  for  more  than  a quar- 
ter of  a century,  attracted  to  himself  the  eye  of  every  philosophi- 
cal inquirer  as  to  the  luminary  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived  and 
shone. 

The  whole  sketch  we  have  thus  given  of  the  sensationalistic 
philosophy,  forms  one  connected  illustration  of  the  effects,  which 
naturally  flow  from  giving  predominance  to  one  out  of  the  three 
fundamental  ideas  of  the  human  mind,  that,  namely,  of  finite  na- 
ture, or  the  not-me.  As  this  idea  is  a true  one,  the  philosophy 
which  originates  in  it  gives  us  true  results  in  its  own  department, 
that  of  physical  science ; but  as  it  is  not  the  only  fundamental  idea 
that  exists  in  the  mind,  we  soon  become  sensible  of  the  errors  in 
which  we  are  necessarily  involved,  when  we  attempt  to  build  upon 
it  the  whole  fabric  of  human  knowledge. 

8 


CHAPTER  II. 


ON  THE  PROGRESS  OF  IDEALISM  PROM  THE  PERIOD  OP  DESCAR- 
TES TO  THE  COMMENCEMENT  OP  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  historical  sketch,  to  which  this  chapter 
is  devoted,  we  shall  occupy  a few  lines  to  remind  the  reader  of  the 
principle  by  which  we  are  guided  in  forming  it.  We  have  shown 
that  there  are  three  fundamental  notions  existing  in  the  human 
mind,  as  the  primary  elements  of  thought:  1st,  that  of  finite  self; 
2dly,  that  of  finite  nature ; 3dly,  that  of  the  absolute,  the  uncon- 
ditioned, the  infinite.  The  whole  multiplicity  of  our  conceptions 
are  referrible  to  some  one  of  these  three,  as  the  irreducible  notion, 
or  category  from  which  it  springs.  The  first  includes  all  inward 
phenomena,  the  second  all  outward  phenomena,  while  the  third 
embraces  those  various  ideas  of  infinity  and  perfection,  which  we 
attribute  neither  to  nature  nor  self,  but  to  some  existence  equally 
removed  beyond  both. 

As  these  three  notions  universally  exist  in  the  human  mind,  we 
naturally  expect  to  find  them  all  three  occupying  a place  in  the  phi- 
losophy of  eveiy  age  ; and  seldom,  perhaps  never,  does  such  an  ex- 
pectation deceive  us.  There  are  many  systems  of  philosophy  which 
admit  them  all,  assigning  the  greater  importance  it  may  be  to  one, 
or  it  may  be  to  another  ; while  there  are  other  systems  which  are 
built  up  entirely  upon  one  of  the  three  as  their  foundation,  to  the 
complete  exclusion  of  the  rest.  The  superstructure  of  sensation- 
alism, for  example,  when  perfected,  rests  solely  upon  the  basis  of 
the  second  of  these  notions — that  of  the  external  or  material  world  ; 
and  we  have  seen  in  the  last  chapter  in  what  way  this  notion  was 
gradually  made  to  occupy  the  place  of  the  other  two,  until  first 
the  finite  mind  of  man,  and  at  last  the  infinite  mind  of  God,  were 
reduced  to  matter  and  organization,  both  cognizable  through  the 
medium  of  the  senses.  In  the  present  chapter  we  are  to  show,  in 
a like  manner,  the  progress  of  idealism  from  those  systems  which 
have  given  their  chief,  though  not  exclusive,  attention  to  the  na- 
ture and  powers  of  the  human  spirit,  to  those  in  which  the  material 


DESCARTES,  MALLEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


115 


world  has  disappeared,  and  mind  become  the  sole  existence  in  the 
universe.  As  idealism,  however,  in  the  sense  we  have  employed 
it,  includes  both  the  notion  of  self  and  also  that  of  the  absolute, 
we  shall  see  that  it  sometimes  assumes  a subjective  form,  and 
sometimes  an  objective,  according  to  the  predominance  of  one  of 
these  notions  over  the  other.  In  these  different  forms,  for  exam- 
ple, it  played  a very  prominent  part  in  the  philosophy  of  the 
ancient  world.  As  our  present  object,  however,  is  not  to  take 
cognizance  of  it  at  that  period,  we  must  proceed  to  see  in  what 
manner  and  to  what  extent  the  idealistic  tendency  has  shown  itself 
from  the  commencement,  and  during  the  progress  of  the  modern 
schools  of  metaphysical  science. 


Sect.  I. — First  Movement  as  seen  in  Descartes,  Malehranche,  and 

Spinoza. 

Of  the  whole  modern  movement  of  metaphysical  science  we 
have  already  pointed  out  Bacon  and  Descartes  as  the  founders ; 
the  former  evincing  a predominant  tendency  to  sensationalism, 
the  latter  to  idealism.  For  Bacon  we  claim  the  decided  superi- 
ority in  comprehensiveness  of  mind.  He  alone  seemed  to  take  in 
at  one  glance  the  whole  circumference  of  human  knowledge ; he 
alone  knew  how  to  assign  to  each  separate  branch  its  proper  po- 
sition, to  detect  the  prejudices  by  which  it  was  impeded,  and  to 
furnish  the  true  method  by  which  advancement  in  every  case  was 
to  be  made.  The  imperfection  of  his  philosophy,  however,  was  its 
almost  exclusive  adaptation  to  the  practical  investigation  of  na- 
ture. Descartes,  while  he  by  no  means  neglected  physical  science, 
and  stood  forth  as  one  of  the  first  mathematicians  of  his  day,  yet 
was  chiefly  pre-eminent  for  his  power  of  intense  reflection — for 
his  acute  analysis  of  mind  and  its  operations.  Bacon  had  shown 
the  true  principles  of  inductive  philosophy  in  their  application  to 
natural  science.  Descartes  now  took  hold  of  those  principles,  and 
applied  them  to  the  investigation  of  the  human  mind.  They  both 
appealed  to  the  observation  of  facts  as  the  ground  of  all  knowl- 
edge, but  the  one  confined  himself  chiefly  to  the  facts  of  the  outer 
world, — while  the  other  appealed  mainly  to  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness. On  this  ground  it  is  that  Descartes  has  unquestionably 
merited  the  reputation  of  standing  at  the  head  of  the  whole  mod- 


116 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ern  movement  of  metaphysical  philosophy.*  The  key  to  this 
movement  was  furnished  by  the  “ Novum  Organum but  it  was 
the  Freneh  philosopher  who'  applied  it  to  the  door  of  the  human 
spirit,  and  first  entered  there  with  the  lamp  of  analysis  in  his  hand. 

In  reviewing  the  life  and  literary  labors  of  Descartes,  the  first 
thing  which  strikes  us  forcibly  is  his  complete  independence  of  all 
authority.  It  was  before  he  had  attained  his  twentieth  year,  that 
he  threw  up  the  dogmas  he  had  been  taught  by  the  Jesuits  at  La 
Fleche,  and  determined  by  the  simple  energy  of  his  own  mind  to 
create  a new  philosophy ; that  is,  to  lay  a new  foundation  for  the 
whole  superstructure  of  human  knowledge.  This  very  determi- 
nation pointed  out  to  him  in  part  the  method  he  should  pursue. 
Left  to  the  simple  power  of  his  own  reflection,  he  was  naturally 
led  to  assume  the  human  consciousness  as  the  true  starting-point 
for  all  scientific  research,  and  the  analysis  of  the  facts  of  our  con- 
sciousness as  the  only  proper  method  of  creating  a sound  philos- 
ophy. In  thus  doing  he  established  the  fundamental  principle, 
which  we  I'egard  as  the  corner-stone  of  all  the  metaphysics  of 
modern  Europe,  namely,  that  as  natural  science  is  based  upon  in- 
ductions drawn  from  the  actual  observation  of  the  world  without, 
so  metaphysical  science  is  based  upon  inductions  similarly  drawn 
from  I'eflection  upon  the  world  within.  Let  us  see,  then,  how  he 
proceeded  in  this  analysis. 

The  first  thing  that  we  are  conscious  of,  begins  Descartes,  is  a 
multiplicity  of  sensations,  impressions,  or  ideas  of  various  kinds, 
passing  in  succession  before  our  view.  But  of  these  we  soon  find 
some  to  be  so  contradictory  and  others  so  dubious,  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  any  one  to  admit  them  all  as  veracious.  The  real 
philosopher,  indeed,  will  admit  none  except  those  which  can  be 
proved  strictly  consonant  with  the  truth  of  things.  The  primary 
position,  therefore,  from  which  all  philosophy  springs  is  doubt. ■\ 
Let  it  not  be  supposed  from  this,  however,  that  Descartes  nurtured 
the  spirit  of  scepticism ; doubt  was  never  intended  to  be  a part  of 
his  philosophical  system,  but  merely  a negation  of  errors  and  prej- 
udices previous  to  the  affirmation  of  those  first  irrefragable  posi- 
tions, on  which  all  science  was  to  be  grounded. J Let  us  see  how 
these  positions  are  to  be  found. 

* This  title  is  awarded  him  by  Stewart  in  his  “ Dissertation  on  the  Progress  of 
Philosophy.” 

t See  Ills  first  “ Meditation,”  in  which  Descartes  gives  the  reasons  why  we  ought  to 
doubt  of  the  truth  of  things  generally,  and  the  uses  of  doubting. — N.  B.  The  references 
are  made  to  the  convenient  l2mo  edition  of  M.  Jules  Simon.  Paris : 1844. 

t:  See  his  answer  to  Hobbes,  p.  186. 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


117 


There  is  one  thing,  he  proceeds,  of  which  we  cannot  doubt,  and 
that  is  thought.  If  on  the  one  hand  I admit  a truth,  I admit  it  by 
means  of  my  power  of  thinking;  or,  if  on  the  other  I doubt  it,  the 
very  act  of  doubting  implies  the  same  power,  inasmuch  as  to  doubt 
is  to  think ; so  that  no  scepticism,  however  rigid,  can  by  any  means 
deny  this  one  fact  without  destroying  itself.  Whilst,  however,  we 
are  constrained  to  admit  thought  as  the  first  veritable  fact,  we  can- 
not but  see,  at  the  same  time,  that  there  is  a subject  to  which  this 
phenomenon  belongs,  and  a subject,  moreover,  which  is  con- 
scious of  its  own  state.  We  conclude,  therefore,  that  Being,  in- 
telligent, conscious  Being,  is  implied  and  postulated  in  thinking ; a 
truth  which  was  expressed  by  Descartes  in  the  celebrated  sen- 
tence, “ Cogito,  ergo  sum.”*  Few  philosophical  aphorisms  have 
been  more  frequently  repeated,  few  more  contested  than  this,  and 
few  assuredly  have  been  so  little  understood  by  those,  who  have 
held  up  its  supposed  fallacy  to  the  greatest  ridicule.  Had  Des- 
cartes intended  this  aphorism  to  be  in  the  proper  logical  sense  an 
argument  to  prove  our  own  existence,  there  is  no  doubt  but  that 
it  would  be  chargeable  with  a “ petitio  principii.”  Such  an  inten- 
tion, however,  he  distinctly  disclaims  in  his  reply  to  Gassendi,  and 
explains  his  meaning  to  be  simply  this, — That  the  very  moment 
there  are  phenomena  of  any  kind  within  our  consciousness,  that 
moment  the  mind  becomes  cognizant  of  its  own  existence ; and 
that  were  there  no  consciousness  there  would  be  no  possible  evi- 
dence of  the  existence  of  an  intelligent  principle.  From  this  it  is 
clear  that  the  “ Cogito  ergo  sum”  of  Descartes  is  intended  to  be 
nothing  more  or  less  than  an  appeal  to  consciousness.  The  ques- 
tion was,  where  am  I to  find  the  first  ground  of  certainty — where 
the  fundamental  truth  which  underlies  everything  else  ? The 
reply  of  Descartes  is, — You  must  find  it  in  the  veracity  of  your 
consciousness.  You  think,  and  what  does  thinking  include? 
Manifestly  a subject  and  an  object — a thinking  being  and  thought 
itself.  By  the  very  first  act  of  consciousness,  therefore,  the  me 
takes  possession  of,  and  affirms  itself. 

Not  only  is  the  fact  of  our  own  being,  however,  implied  in  our 
consciousness,  but  from  the  nature  of  thought,  Descartes  considered 
we  could  legitimately  conclude  respecting  the  nature  of  the  mind 
itself ; that,  as  the  one  possesses  no  resemblance  to  any  of  the  qual- 
ities of  body,  the  other  also  must  be  of  a corresponding  essence. 
The  mind  itself,  therefore,  he  regarded  as  simple  and  spiritual  in  its 

* Vid.  Second  Meditation,  in  which  his  first  principles  are  laid  down. 


118 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


nature,  totally  distinct  from  matter  in  every  possible  point  of 
view.* 

A foundation  being  thus  laid,  Descartes  proceeds  to  erect  his 
philosophical  system  upon  it.  The  human  mind,  whose  existence 
and  nature  has  now  been  defined,  is  the  subject  of  many  ideas.  It 
is  required,  therefore,  to  determine  two  things — first,  what  is  the 
nature  of  Ideas  generally,  and  secondly,  what  is  the  criterion  of 
their  veracity.  As  to  the  nature  of  ideas,  Descartes  defines  them 
to  be  “ all  that  is  in  our  mind  when  we  conceive  a thing,  in  what- 
ever way  we  conceive  it.”  He  employs  the  term  evidently  not  in 
the  sense  of  an  image  or  resemblance,  but  in  the  more  general 
sense  of  any  thought,  notion,  or  perception,  which  the  mind  either 
possesses  or  creates. f 

The  chief  point,  however,  in  the  doctrine  of  ideas  is  to  deter- 
mine their  validity — to  point  out  some  criterion  by  which  the  true 
can  be  distinguished  from  the  false.  The_  Cartesian_criterion  is 
that  of  clearness  and  distinctness.  A distinct  idea  he  maintains  is 
necessarily  a true  one,  while  an  indistinct  idea  has  no  guarantee 
about  it  of  objective  validity.  This  rule,  in  fact,  like  the  primitive 
affirmation  of  the  existence  of  the  me,  is  nothing  more  than  an  ap- 
peal to  the  truth  of  consciousness.  Whatever  consciousness  holds 
out  to  me  as  clearly  and  distinctly  true,  that  I am  bound  to  accept ; 
upon  such  a faith  in  the  veracity  of  our  faculties  must  the  very  first 
elements  of  all  our  knowledge  repose.  J 

But  now,  when  we  begin  to  interrogate  our  consciousness,  we 
find  that  there  is  one,  out  of  the  whole  number  of  our  conceptions, 
which  stands  forth  both  by  its  clearness  and  its  uniqueness  far 
above  all  the  rest,  that,  namely,  of  an  infinite  and  all-perfect  Being. 
If,  then,  clear  ideas  are  always  objectively  true,  and  the  idea  of  a 
God  is  the  clearest  of  all,  we  must  have  a direct  ^roof  from  con- 
sciousness itself  of  the  Divine  existence.  Here,  then,  we  perceive 
the  nature  and  validity  of  Descartes’  famous  psychological  argu- 
ment for  the  foundation  principle  of  natural  theology,  which  may 

’*■  For  Descartes’  views  on  tlie  immateriality  and  immortality  of  mind,  see  his  second 
Meditation,  and  his  Dispute  upon  it  with  Gassendi.  These  two  of  his  writings  have  the 
merit  of  placing  the  doctrine  of  the  spirituality  of  mind  upon  its  firmest  foundation. 
Consult  on  this  subject  Damiron’s  “ Essai  sur  I’Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  au  xviime 
Siecle,”  chap.  iii.  Mr.  Hallam  also  awards  him  the  honor  of  being  the  father  of 
modern  spiritualism — “ Lit,  of  Europe,”  vol  ii.  p.  443.  His  material  theory  of  Memory 
or  Imagination,  however,  shows  the  influence  which  the  current  materialism  of  the  age 
still  had  upon  him. 

t For  Descartes’  classification  of  ideas  into  forms  of  Thought,  Passion,  and  Will, 
consult  the  “ Traite  des  Passions,”  first  Part.  He  elsewhere  divides  them  into 
adveniilimis,  factilimis,  and  innate. 

Meditation  IV. 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  A.ND  SPINOZA.  ^119 

be  stated  as  follows.  The  idea  of  an  all-perfect,  infinite  Being  is 
without  controversy  in  my  mind.  How  could  it  have  come  there  ? 
Not  from  the  outer  world,  not  from  education,  not  from  any  finite 
source — for  the  finite  and  imperfect  could  never  give  me  the  con- 
ception of  the  perfect  and  the  Infinite,  the  effect  never  transcend 
the  cause.  Hence,  if  I have  incontestably  the  clear  idea  of  God,  a 
God  must  necessarily  exist.* 

The  reality  of  the  Divine  existence,  as  of  an  all-perfect  Being, 
having  been  thus  established,  Descartes  now  uses  it  as  a.  fixed  truth, 
by  which  to  establish  the  veracity  of  other  and  previously  doubtful 
facts.  When  we  begin  to  reason  about  things  within  or  around 
us,  we  find  ourselves  able  to  arrive  by  rigid  deduction  at  certain 
conclusions.  In  this  way,  for  example,  we  come  to  the  fixed  truths 
of  geometry  and  natural  philosophy,  truths  which  have  not  the  evi- 
dence of  direct  consciousness,  but  only  that  of  clear  demonstration. 
What,  then,  is  our  evidence  of  the  validity  of  this  knowledge  ? not 
the  criterion  before  laid  down,  for  here  it  is  inapplicable : the  evi- 
dence must  be  that  of  the  Divine  veracity.  Geometry  is  true,  be- 
cause God  will  not  allow  our  faculties  to  deceive  us  respecting  the 
actual  relations  of  space  objectively  considered ; and  so  with  re- 
gard to  all  other  deductive  knowledge. 

The  most  remarkable  application  of  this  principle  is  that  which 
relates  to  our  knowledge  of  the  external  world.  In  the  threefold 
classification  of  our  ideas,  Descartes  shows  that  there  is  one  class 
which  includes  what  we  i&rm  perceptions,  and  which,  we  are  con- 
scious, must  have  some  cause  distinct  from  our  will.  What,  then, 
is  the  cause  from  which  they  take  their  rise  ? Appeal  to  the  senses 
and  they  give  us  no  reply,  since  all  we  know  from  them  are  sub- 
jective phenomena.  From  these,  then,  let  us  appeal  to  our  reason  ; 
and  it,  in  reply,  points  us  to  the  Being  of  all  perfection,  upon  whose 
veracity  we  may  fully  depend,  and  who,  we  know,  could  not  have 
formed  our  senses  and  constituted  our  minds  in  such  a manner  as 
to  render  our  life  one  perpetual  scene  of  deception.  Hence  the 
external  world  is  a reality,  but  a reality  which  rests  solely  upon  the 
prior  evidence  we  have  of  the  existence  and  perfections  of  God.f 

* Descartes  has  also  given  an  ontological  proof  for  the  Being  of  a God,  namely,  that 
the  existerpe  of  God  is  implied  jn  the  very  nature  or  essence  of  the  idea  we  have  of  Hini, 
as  the  existence  of  a triangle  in  the  conception  of  a triangle.  For  these  two  proofs,  see 
Meditations  three  and  five.  Every  a priori  argument  is  virtually  reducible  to  the 
psychological  or  the  ontological  process  as  here  indicated. 

_ t Respecting  the  question  of  the  external  world,  we  have  Descartes’  views  in  his 
sixth  Meditation,  where  he  shows  generally  the  superior  certainty  and  clearness  of 
our  innate  or  fundamental  ideas  over  all  other. 


120 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


This  argument,  we  may  remark,  implies  a decided  paralogism  that 
renders  it  one  of  the  weakest  points  in  the  Cartesian  metaphysics. 
The  veracity  of  our  faculties  is  first  appealed  to,  in  order  to  estab- 
lish the  being  of  a God,  and  then  the  authority  of  God  is  appealed 
to,  in  order  to  establish  the  veracity  of  our  faculties.  The  whole 
question  is  thus  inclosed  in  a vicious  circle. 

The  portion,  perhaps,  of  the  Cartesian  doctrines,  most  productive 
of  ulterior  consequences,  was  that  which  refers  to  the  relation  sub- 
sisting between  God  and  the  creation.  Creation  itself,  Descartes 
attributed  to  the  will  of  the  Almighty,  making  even  necessary  truth 
itself  dependent  upon  that  will,  rather  than  upon  the  nature  of 
things.  In  this  doctrine,  the  stability  of  absolute  truth  unquestion- 
ably appears  to  have  been  somewhat  compromised  ; for  if  it  be  true, 
there  is  no  reason  why  the  relations  of  space  and  number,  as  in- 
volved in  mathematical  science,  should  not  alter  to-moiTow,  if  there 
were  a purpose  for  it  in  the  mind  of  God.  More  important  still, 
however,  was  his  doctrine  respecting  the  act  of  creation  itself  To 
Descartes  the  whole  dependent  world,  both  of  mind  and  matter,  is 
a vast  mechanism  carried  on  by  external  laws  ; a mechanism  which 
requires  the  act  of  creation  to  be  ever  reproduced,  in  order  to  keep 
it  in  perpetual  and  harmonious  operation.  According  to  this  view 
there  can  be  no  direct  action  of  matter  upon  matter,  because  it  is 
the  perpetual  efflux  of  the  “ vis  creatrix”  by  which  all  such  action 
is  maintained  ; and,  consequently,  secondary  causes  can  be  nothing 
more  than  modifications  of  the  first  cause.  In  like  manner,  also, 
there  can  be  no  direct  inffuence  mutually  exerted  upon  each  other 
by  mind  and  matter,  for  the  action  of  both  is  dependent  upon  the 
continuity  of  the  creative  power,  as  seen  in  the  laws  or  mechanism 
of  body  and  soul.  In  this  one  affirmation,  that  the  universe  depends 
upon  the  productive  power  of  God  not  onhj  for  its  first  existence, 
hut  equally  so  for  its  continued  being  and  operation,  there  is  in- 
volved the  germ  of  the  several  doctrines  of  pre-established  harmony 
— of  occasional  causes — of  our  seeing  all  things  in  God — and, 
finally,  of  pantheism  itself,  the  ultimate  point  to  which  they  all  tend. 
We  have,  it  is  true,  in  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  all  three  of  the 
primary  conceptions  to  which  we  have  reduced  the  whole  mass  of 
our  intellectual  phenomena.  We  have  first  the  notion  of  self,  then 
that  of  God,  and  lastly,  by  implication,  that  of  the  world.  By 
viewing  mind,  however,  more  in  the  efforts  of  its  reason  than  of 
its  will,  and  by  assigning  to  it  innate  ideas,  rather  than  innate  and 
active  faculties,  he  much  weakened  the  notion  of  human  lib- 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE.  AND  SPINOZA. 


121 


erty,*  and  through  that  of  personality  also.  By  assigning,  again,  our 
sense-perceptions  to  divine  interposition,  he  removed  the  notion  of 
matter  to  a vast  distance,  and  hewed  away  the  chief  foundations 
on  which  its  reality  rests ; while  amidst  all  this,  the  notion  of  the 
infinite  and  all-perfect  Being,  as  immanent  in  His  creation,  attained 
a predominance  great  and  all-absorbing,  in  proportion  as  the  others 
were  weakened  and  diminished. 

To  sum  up,  therefore,  our  estimate  of  Descartes’  influence  upon 
philosophy,  we  should  say,  that,  while  he  taught  the  true  principle 
of  mental  analysis,  and  deduced  from  it  many  splendid  results,  yet 
that  his  writings,  upon  the  whole,  tended  to  elevate  the  idea  of  the 
infinite  and  absolute  above  all  others,  and  thus  prepared  the  way, 
as  we  shall  soon  find,  for  a complete  system  of  objective  idealism. 

Into  the  physics,  the  physiology,  and  some  other  branches  of  the 
Cartesian  philosophy,  we  forbear  to  enter,  as  they  are  of  little  or 
no  worth  except  to  warn  us,  how  easily  the  acutest  minds,  though 
starting  from  correct  principles,  may  lose  the  road,  and  how  soon, 
when  blinded  by  a false  argument,  they  may  take  the  step  from  a 
rigid  system  of  demonstration  to  one  of  improbability,  utterly  un- 
sustained by  evidence.  Between  the  first  and  the  last  words  which 
Descartes  uttered  in  the  department  of  philosophy,  there  is  a dis- 
tinction almost  as  wide  asunder  as  the  poles.  His  starting  prin- 
ciple— that  all  philosophy  begins  in  an  analysis  of  the  human 
consciousness — is  the  foundation  of  all  subsequent  psychological 
investigations  down  to  the  present  day.  His  system,  when  com- 
pleted, gives  us,  on  the  other  hand,  the  infallible  germ  of  a pure 
idealism.! 

Amongst  the  followers  of  Descartes,  we  must  distinguish  those 
who  embraced  his  philosophy  as  a whole,  and  evolved  still  further 
the  results  contained  in  it,  from  those  who  simply  followed  his 
method,  and  produced  from  it  a philosophy  of  their  own.  To  the 
former  belong  only  his  immediate  successors,  to  the  latter  belong 

* Descartes’  doctrine  of  Free  Will  was  much  disputed  by  the  theologians  of  the 
succeeding  age  ; perhaps  it  is  difficult  to  define  it  very  accurately,  but  it  certainly 
wavered  between  the  liberty  of  indifference  and  the  necessity  of  Calvinism. 

t The  study  of  Descartes  has  revived  in  recent  times  among  the  French  philosophers 
to  an  extraordinary  degree.  In  1824,  M.  Cousin  published  his  whole  works  in  11  vol- 
umes. In  1832,  M.  Gruyer  published  his  “ Essais  Philosophiques  suivis  de  la  Metaphy- 
sique de  Descartes  assemblee  et  mise  en  ordre.”  In  1842,  appeared  M.  Bouillier’s 
“ Histoire  et  Critique  de  la  Revolution  Cartesienne.  M,  Jules  Simon  published  his 
small  edition  with  an  admirable  introduction  in  1844;  and  in  184G,  appeared  M.  Dami- 
ron’s,  “ Essai  sur  1’ Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  en  Prance  au  xvii™®  siccle,”  containing, 
in  addition  to  his  own  views,  a report  upon  six  memoirs,  given  in  to  the  Academie  des 
Sciences  upon  the  Philosophy  of  Descartes  and  its  effects.  Other  works  have  appeared, 
but  the  above  are  the  most  important. 


122 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


all  the  philosophers  of  the  rationalistic  school,  who  flourished  dui- 
ing  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth,  and  the  whole  of  the  eigh- 
teenth centuries.  It  is,  then,  with  Cartesianism  as  a whole,  not 
simply  as  a method,  that  we  have  now  to  do ; and  the  progress  of 
this  may  be  summed  up  by  a brief  reference  to  three  men,  of  un- 
common philosophical  genius,  in  whose  writings  its  extreme  results 
have  been  developed.*  The  first  of  these  was  Arnold  Geulincx,  a 
native  of  Antwerp,  who,  in  common  with  many  more  of  the  literati 
of  France  and  Holland,  entered  enthusiastically  into  the  Cartesian 
principles  on  their  first  publication  to  the  world.  It  was  Geulincx, 
in  fact,  who  first  brought  out,  in  its  proper  form,  the  celebrated 
doctrine  of  occasional  causes,  according  to  which  God  himself  is 
the  direct  agent  in  all  the  related  movements  of  the  soul  and  the 
body,  while  the  affections  of  the  latter  afford  the  occasion  upon 
which  he  produces  the  corresponding  sensations  in  the  former. 
This  was  clearly  an  additional  step  taken  towards  the  formation 
of  a system  of  objective  idealism,  f 

The  next  in  the  order  of  time  of  the  three  philosophers  I have 
referred  to,  was  Spinoza,  but  in  the  order  of  development  we 
should  rather  assign  the  second  place  to  Malebranche.  They  both, 
in  fact,  wrote  very  nearly  at  the  same  period,  and  to  a great  ex- 
tent, if  not  entirely,  independently  of  one  another ; so  that  there  is 
no  real  error  committed  whichever  we  place  first  upon  the  list, 
while  both  are  separate  proofs  of  the  actual  tendency  of  the  Carte- 
sian principles.  Malebranche,  as  a thinker,  as  a writer,  and  as  an 
earnest  lover  of  both  truth  and  goodness,  merits  to  stand  almost  at 
the  head  of  the  early  literati  of  his  country.  His  thoughts  are 
always  lofty,  his  observations  acute,  his  style  luminous  and  attrac- 
tive, and  his  spirit  truthful  and  sincere.  J It  would  be  difficult  to 
find  in  any  language  a more  able  prophylactic  against  eiTor  than  is 
contained  in  his  great  work,  “De  la  Recherche  de  la  Verite,”  or 

* The  number  of  Descartes’  followers  who  wrote  in  illustration  or  defence  of  his  phi- 
losophy was  very  considerable.  The  most  celebrated  of  these  was  Pierre  Sylvain  Regis, 
who  wrote  an  elaborate  “ Systeme  de  la  Philosophie,”  published  at  Paris  in  1C90. 
These  professed  Cartesians  do  not  of  course  tend  to  illustrate  the  progress  of  the  ideal- 
istic philosophy ; they  merely  explain  its  state  under  the  more  immediate  authority  of 
Descartes. 

t The  origination  of  the  doctrine  of  occasional  causes  is  disputed.  Some  attribute  it 
to  De  la  Forge,  author  of  a “Traite  de  Esprit  Humain,”  published  in  KiGG.  Tenne- 
mann  attributes  it  to  Geulincx.  That  the  latter  made  the  greater  innovations  upon  the 
original  Cartesian  doctrines,  there  can  be  no  doubt ; and  even  if  there  are  some  remarks 
which  favor  the  theory  in  question  in  the  works  of  De  la  Forge,  the  clear  elucidation 
of  it  seems  rather  due  to  Geulincx.  On  the  opinions  of  both,  see  Darairon’s  “ Essai 
sur  xvii'T''^  siecle,”  vol.  ii.  book  4. 

Leibnitz  says,  “ Le  Pere  Malebranche  joint  a des  profondes  meditations,  une  belle 
maniurc  de  les  exprimer.” 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


123 


more  acute  remarks  on  the  various  methods  by  which  deceptions 
gain  an  influence  over  the  mind.  Our  present  object,  however,  is 
to  view  Malebranche  simply  in  his  re.ation  to  the  Cartesian  phi- 
losophy. 

The  notion  of  the  absolute,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  brought 
by  Descartes  so  prominently  into  his  later  philosophy,  that  the  idea 
of  finite  mind  as  a self-acting  and  causative  principle  was  much 
weakened,  and  its  perception  of  the  material  world  made  to  depend 
in  every  case  upon  the  interposition  of  Divine  power.  Now,  the 
whole  of  what  is  peculiar  to  Malebranche  as  an  idealist,  arose  from 
the  more  intense  view  which  he  took  of  this  feature  in  the  Carte- 
sian philosophy,  from  the  still  greater  predominance  which  was 
thus  given  to  the  power  of  the  first  great  cause,  and  the  tendency 
consequently  engendered  of  absorbing  in  it,  the  influence  of  all 
secondary  causes  throughout  the  universe. 

The  two  kinds  of  existence  that  are  known  in  the  world,  accord- 
ing to  Malebranche,  are  body  and  spirit,  of  which  the  former  pos- 
sesses the  qualities  of  extension  and  mobility,  the  latter  the  corres- 
ponding attributes  of  understanding  and  will;  but  as  both  are 
equally  finite  and  dependent,  and  have  no  original  source  of  action 
within  themselves,  no  changes  can  take  place  in  material  things,  no 
secondary  causes  exist,  no  effect  be  produced  by  matter  upon  mind, 
no  part  of  the  vast  machinery  of  creation  go  forward,  without  the 
immediate  will  and  power  of  the  great  first  cause.  Hence  follows, 
by  very  easy  steps,  the  whole  of  Malebranche’s  well-known  met- 
aphysical theory ; for,  since  on  this  principle  there  is  no  action  of 
external  things  upon  the  mind,  nor  any  reaction  of  mind  upon 
them,  without  the  direct  interposition  of  the  Deity ; and  since  the 
ideas  of  all  things  must  exist  in  the  mind  of  the  Creator,  (as  Plato 
had  so  abundantly  demonstrated,)  the  most  natural  conclusion  was, 
that  the  human  mind  sees  everything  in  the  Divine,  and  that  God 
hiijiself  is  our  intelligible  world.  We  have  no  further  occasion, 
therefore,  to  attempt  the  solution  of  the  knotty  point  upon  which 
so  many  philosophers  had  toiled,  namely,  the  method  by  which 
matter  and  spirit  mutually  affect  each  other,  it  being  entirely  solved 
on  this  one  simple  principle,  that  it  is  in  God  that  our  minds  live 
and  move  and  have  their  being.  What,  then,  it  might  be  rejoined 
to  this,  (if  we  only  see  the  archetypes  of  things  in  God,)  is  the  use 
of  the  m.aterial  world  at  all,  and  why  should  we  assume  its  exist- 
ence? To  this  Malebranche  replies  by  appealing  to  revelation, 
which  assures  us  that  in  the  beginning  God  created  the  heavens 


124 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


and  the  earth ; so  that  the  very  existence  of  matter  was  made  by 
him  to  depend  upon  the  interpretation  of  a passage  of  Scripture, 
which  interpretation  only  needed  to  be  invalidated,  in  order  to 
plunge  us  at  once  into  complete  idealism.  The  whole  effect  of 
Malebranche’s  philosophy,  accordingly,  was  to  merge  all  secondary 
causes  into  the  one  infinite  cause ; to  diminish,  proportionally,  the 
notion  of  human  liberty,  and  to  suspend  the  whole  material  world 
upon  one  slender  thread,  which  it  merely  required  a little  exegetical 
ingenuity  to  snap  forever  asunder.* 

It  is  to  Spinoza,  however,  that  we  must  attribute  the  honor  (if, 
indeed,  it  is  to  be  esteemed  such)  of  drawing  forth  from  the  Carte- 
sian principles  their  ultimate  results. f Descartes  and  Malebranche 
both  aimed  at  employing  a strictly  consecutive  method  in  their  phi- 
losophy, and  both  were  led,  more  or  less,  into  error,  by  attempting 
to  ground  upon  demonstration  what  really  can  only  rest  upon  the 
direct  authority  of  our  consciousness.  Spinoza,  animated  with  a 
still  higher  love  of  this  same  method,  commenced  his  philosophical 
career  by  an  attempted  reduction  of  the  Cartesian  principles  to  the 
geometrical  form ; to  which  attempt  he  added  some  further  ideas 
(termed  by  him  “ Cogitata  metaphysica,”)  that  were  intended  to 
point  out  various  other  developments  of  the  same  philosophy. 
These,  however,  cannot  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  develop- 
ment of  Spinozism,  properly  so  called  ; they  were  merely  lectures 
on  the  Cartesian  philosophy  reduced  to  the  form  most  in  accord- 
ance with  the  natural  genius  of  the  author,  and  accompanied  by  a 
few  illustrative  hints.  The  only  other  work  he  published  himself, 
is  entitled  “ Tractatus  Theologico-politicus,”  the  object  of  which 
was  to  clear  up  the  difficult  ground  that  lies  between  religion  and 
politics.  His  principal  works,  containing  in  fact  the  whole  of  his 

* It  is  needless  to  remark  that  we  have  only  designed  to  give  here  that  characteristic 
of  Malebranehe’s  philosophy,  which  hears  upon  the  progress  of  idealism.  To  appreci- 
ate the  Platonie  sublimity,  the  philosophic  depth,  the  praetical  wisdom  and  the  Chris- 
tian purity  of  his  mind,  he  must  be  read  and  studied.  His  principal  work,  “ De  la 
Recherche  de  la  Verite,”  is  divided  into  six  books.  He  first  points  out  the  errors  and 
bewilderments  which  arise  from  implicity  trusting  to  the  senses.  In  this  he  strongly 
evinces  his  idealism,  by  invalidating  all  the  ordinary  evidences  for  the  existence  of  a 
material  world.  In  the  second  book  ho  discusses  the  errors  of  imagination.  This,  how- 
ever, is  encumbered  by  a material  theory,  similar  to  that  of  Descartes  himself.  The 
third  book  on  Pure  Spirit  is  the  most  interesting  of  all.  In  this,  his  theory  of  seeing 
all  things  in  God,  is  fully  developed.  The  next  two  books  treat  of  the  various  propen- 
.sities  and  passions,  of  human  nature,  viewed  as  sources  of  error  and  evil,  The  last 
book  points  out  the  method  we  ought  to  follow  in  the  search  after  truth.  His  other 
works  are  “ Conversations  Chretiennes,”  “ Meditations  Chretiennes,’'  “ Entretiens  sur 
la  Metaphysique,”  “ Traite  de  la  Nature  et  de  la  Grace,”  and  “ Traite  de  Morale.” 

f Leibnitz  called  Spinoza's  philosophy  ” Extreme  Cartesianism.” — N.B.  The  quota- 
tions on  Spinoza  are  taken  from  the  edition  of  M.  Saisset  (Paris,  1843,)  as  by  far  the 
most  convenient  for  the  general  reader  to  refer  to. 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


125 


philosophy,  properly  so  called,  were  only  published  after  his  death, 
and  it  is  from  these  that  we  shall  attempt  to  draw  as  clear  an 
account  of  his  system,  as  our  necessary  brevity  and  its  frequent 
obscurity  will  admit. 

The  real  foundation  of  Spinoza’s  system  is  to  be  found  in  his 
posthumous  fragment  “ De  Intellectus  Emendatione.”*  In  this 
fragment  we  have  a general  investigation  of  the  different  methods 
by  which  knowledge  is  communicated  to  the  human  mind.  First 
of  all,  we  gain  a number  of  ideas,  either  by  mere  hearsay,  of  by 
the  vague  experience  of  the  senses.f  This  is  termed  in  the  Ethics, 
knowledge  of  the  first  kind.  .Next,  we  may  gain  ideas  by  direct 
inference  from  other  ideas,  that  is,  by  the  effort  of  the  logical 
faculty  or  .understanding.  But,  lastly,  knowledge,  properly  so 
called,  only  arises  when  by  an  effort  of  the  reason  we  grasp  the 
very  essence  of  things,  when  we  gaze  upon  being  itself  J Upon 
the  validity  of  this  intellectual  intuition  (a  direct  application  of 
Descartes’  appeal  to  the  authority  of  consciousness,)  the  very  axi- 
oms of  Spinoza’s  system  must  wholly  rest. 

From  the  vestibule  of  Spinozism  we  may  now  go  into  the  tem- 
ple. Let  it  be  admitted  that  the  reason  of  mankind,  looking 
through  the  veil  of  passing  phenomena,  seeks  after  something  fixed 
and  abiding.  That  it  must  find  some  resting  place,  some  ultimate 
unalterable  idea,  that  supposes  no  other  beyond  it,  is  evident,  other- 
wise the  process  of  abstraction  would  go  on  to  infinity  (regressus 
in  infinitum).  Such  an  idea  Descartes  found  in  the  notion  of  ab- 
solute perfection  ; but  then,  rejoins  Spinoza,  what  is  perfection  but 
the  mere  attribute  of  some  perfect  Being?  The  fundamental  idea 
therefore  can  only  be  found  in  Being  itself  i.  e.  in  the  notion  of  a 
substance,  which  is  absolutely  self-existent,  and  needs  no  other 
conception  besides  itself  to  render  it  complete  and  intelligible. § 

* A reviewer,  to  whom  reference  has  already  been  made,  denies  the  propriety  of  ground- 
ing Spinoza's  system  upon  his  Psychology,  and  describes  it  as  turning  the  reasoning 
upside  down.  I rather  doubt  from  his  supposition  (that  I was  referring  here  to  the 
second  book  of  the  Ethics,  “ De  Mente’'),  whether  he  was  himself  vreW  acquainted  with 
the  fragment  above  quoted.  To  me  it  is  perfectly  clear,  that  Spinoza  intended  that 
work  to  be  a preparative  to  his  Ethics,  that  he  saw  with  Descartes  the  necessity  of 
grounding  his  dogmatism  in  a critique  of  the  consciousness,  (on  which  all  first  princi- 
ples must  repose,)  and  that  his  system  really  begins  in  his  psychological  survey.  M. 
Saisset  remarks  on  this  point — “ Genie  cssentiellement  reflochi,  eleve  a une  ccole 
severe  celle  de  Descartes,  Spinoza  n’ignorait  pas  qu’il  n’y  a point  en  philosophic  de 
probleme,  anterieur  a celui  de  la  methode.  La  nature  et  la  portee  de  I’entendement 
humain,  I’ordre  legitime  de  ses  operations,  la  loi  fondamentale  qui  les  doit  rcgler,  tous 
ces  grands  objets  avaient  occupe  ses  premieres  meditations,  et  il  ne  cessa  de  s’en  in- 
quiete  a pendant  toute  sa  vie.  Nous  savons  qu'avant  d’ecrire  son  ethique,  il  avait  jete 
les  bases  d’un  traite  complet  sur  la  methode,”  (namely,  in  the  work  “ De  Intellectus 
Emendatione.”) — CEuvres,  p.  16. 

■j-  Vol.  ii  p.  280.  ij:  Vol.  ii.  p.  281.  ^ Eth.  Def  iii.  book  i. 


126 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


But,  then,  how  are  we  to  comprehend  substance  in  its  rea  na- 
ture and  essence  ? Manifestly  by  means  of  its  attributes,  for  at- 
tribute is  that  which  our  reason  conceives  of  as  constituting  its 
essence.* 

The  attributes  under  which  we  conceive  of  Substance  are  two, 
extension  and  thought,  both  of  which  must  be  infinite,  as  belonging 
to  an  infinite  being ; not  indeed  infinite  absolutely,  but  relatively 
to  the  substratum  in  which  they  exist.  But  these  two  attributes 
appear  in  an  endless  variety  of  aspects,  which  we  may  term  modes.'\ 
Modes,  then,  express  the  nature  of  attributes,  and  attributes  the 
nature  of  substance,  so  that  here  we  have  all  existence,  absolute 
and  relative,  embraced  in  the  three  ideas  of  substance,  attributes, 
modes.  The  absolute  self-existent  substance  is  God  ; everything 
else  must  be  attributes  and  modes,  under  which  that  substance  ap- 
pears. 

God  then  exists.  The  proof  of  his  existence  is  identical  with 
that  of  one  infinite,  eternal,  self-existent  substance.  Moreover,  it 
is  demonstrable,  that  there  can  be  but  one  substance  in  the  uni- 
verse ; for  one  substance  cannot  be  produced  by  another,  accord- 
ing to  its  very  definition,  as  being  self-existent.J  Hence,  God  is 
not  only  one  but  there  can  be  no  real  essential  existence  besides  ; 
he  is  TO  nav,  the  great  universal  all. 

The  whole  nature  of  God  can  now  be  determiped.  The  fact 
of  his  self-existence  involves  the  idea  qf  freedom  ; for  what  can 
there  be  to  oppose  and  limit  his  power  ? This  freedom  or  essential 
activity,  therefore,  joined  with  the  two  attributes  above  mentioned, 
involve  the  following  results — First,  that  God  is  free,  yet  free  in  a 
sense  which  excludes  the  idea  of  volition  or  will ; free  only  as 
ever  unfolding  his  own  essential  being,  without  obstruction  or  re- 
straint.§ Secondly,  that  God  has  infinite  extension,  yet,  so  as 
not  to  imply  anything  material,  but  only  pure  abstract  extension.]! 
Thirdly,  that  God  eternally  thinks,  but  contemplates  only  himself, 
without  ideas,  without  the  flow  of  consciousness,  without  an  un- 
derstanding in  the  ordinary  sense.  His  intelligence  is  one  eternal, 
unchangeable  gaze  upon  truth,  i.  e.  upon  himself.  TI 

But  now  the  question  arises,  how  are  we  to  explain  the  exist- 
ence and  nature  of  the  phenomenal  world  ? The  relation  of  the 
infinite  to  the  finite,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  problems  which 
philosophy  has  ever  undertaken  to  unravel.  Some  have  had  re- 

* De  Deo,  Def,  iv.  -j-  De  Deo,  Def.  v.  :f:  Ibid.  Prop.  vi. 

^ Ibid.  Prop.  xvii.  II  De  Deo,  Part  II.  prop.  ii.  TT  Ibid.  Part  II.  prop,  i 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


127 


course  to  the  dualistic  hypothesis,  which  supposes  an  eternal  ex- 
istence  of  matter,  co-ordinate  with  God.  Others  have  imagined 
the  phenomenal  world  to  be  the  direct  product  of  creative  power, 

' God  bringing  all  things  out  of  nothing.  These  theories  we  see  at 
once  are  entirely  inadmissible  on  the  principles  of  Spinozism,  al- 
ready laid  down.  Here  God  is  not  a creating  mind,  but  Being 
itself,  the  one  unchangeable  essence,  which  underlies  everything 
else.  Thought  and  extension  both  exist  as  perfections  absolutely 
in  God,  but  thought  and  extension  would  ever  be  but  vain  and 
empty  abstractions,  unless  they  were  referred  as  attributes  to 
Being.  Hence,  any  particular  thought,  and  any  particular  exten- 
sion can  be  nothing  but  mere  abstractions,  unless  they  are  referred 
to  absolute  thought  and  absolute  extension,  such  as  exist  only  in 
Deity  himself.*  Being,  then  involves  as  attributes,  infinite  thought 
and  infinite  extension  ; these  attributes  involve  an  infinite  number 
of  finite  determinations,  and  these  determinations  constitute  the 
phenomenal  world ; those  of  the  infinite  thought  giving  rise  to 
finite  minds,  those  of  the  infinite  extension  to  all  material  exist- 
ences.! V, 

God,  then,  may  be  viewed,  according  to  Spinoza,  in  two  differ- 
ent aspects,  first,  as  the  eternal  substance,  possessing  in  himself 
infinite  attributes  and  mode  of  Being ; and,  secondly,  as  the  self- 
existent  one,  developing  himself,  and  expanding  into  an  infinite 
number  of  finite  determinations.  The  one  is  natura  naturans, 
the  other  natura  naturata ; the  one,  the  absolute,  containing  all 
things  potentially  within  its  infinite  nature ; the  other,  the  abso- 
lute, unfolding  that  nature  into  all  the  modifications  of  thought  and 
extension  of  which  the  universe  consists.  Hence,  God  is,  in  a 
most  pregnant  sense,  the  cause  of  all  things,  inasmuch  as  all  things 
are  but  modes  of  his  own  infinite  attributes ; or,  in  the  words  of 
the  authoi',  “ Deus  est  omnium  rerum  causa  immanens,  non 
transiens!'X 

That  Spinoza  affirmed  the  existence  of  a God,  and  affirmed  it 
so  earnestly,  as  to  merit  the  appellation  given  him  by  Novalis,  of 
“ the  god-intoxicated  man,”  may  be  readily  admitted  in  a certain 
sense ; but  that  he  allowed  the  existence  of  a God  in  the  ordinary 
and  Christian  acceptation  of  that  word,  is  far  from  being  the  case 


J 


* See  M.  Saisset’s  Introd.  p.  Ixxx. 
f De  Deo,  prop.  xxv.  and  corollary. 

! Ibid.  prop.  XV.  xvi.  xviii.  xxi.  xxiii.  Also  in  Part  II.  Def.  i.  matter  is  defined—"  A 
mode  which  expresses  in  a certain  determined  manner  the  essence  of  God,  inasmuch 
as  we  consider  God  as  a thing  extended.” 


128 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


A Being  to  whom  understanding,  will,  and  even  personality  is 
denied ; a being  who  does  not  create  but  simply  is,  who  does  not 
act  but  simply  unfolds,  who  does  not  purpose,  but  brings  all  things 
to  pass  by  the  necessary  law  of  his  own  existence — such  a being 
cannot  be  a father,  a friend,  a benefactor,  in  a word,  cannot  be  a 
God  to  man,  for  man  is  but  a part  of  himself  It  may  be  more 
coiTect  to  term  the  philosophy  of  Spinoza,  a pantheism  than  an 
atheism  ; but  if  we  take  the  common  idea  or  definition  of  Deity 
as  valid,  then  assuredly  we  must  conclude  that  the  God  of  Spinoza 
is  no  God,  and  that  his  pantheism  is  only  a more  imposing  form  of 
atheism. 

There  is  throughout  all  Spinoza’s  reasoning,  a vast  ambiguity 
lying  concealed  in  the  word  substance.  Taking  it  as  implying 
Being  per  se,  he  succeeds  admirably  in  proving  that  it  must  be 
uncreated,  eternal,  divine  ; but  this  is  no  proof  of  the  impossibility 
of  the  act  of  creation.  Why  should  the  term  substance  be  con- 
fined to  this  precise  definition,  why  should  it  not  include  Being  per 
alium  as  well  as  Being  per  se  ? If  this  be  admissible,  the  panthe- 
istic basis  crumbles  beneath  his  feet,  the  old  stand-point  is  regained, 
that  God  is  the  efficient  cause  of  all  things,  not  the  essence  of  which 
all  things  consist. 

Having  discussed  the  nature  of  God,  Spinoza  proceeds  in  the 
second  part  of  his  Ethics  (De  Mente),  to  expound  his  theory  re- 
specting man.  The  mind  of  man,  as  was  before  shown,  must  be 
essentially  and  substantially  a portion  of  the  divine  thinking ; re- 
garded individually  or  phenominally,  it  must  be  a succession  of 
different  modes  of  the  infinite  thought.  But  this  is  not  all : the 
mind  of  man  is  closely  united  to  the  body,  which  is  a mode  of  the 
divine  extension.  Man,  therefore,  consists  in  the  perfect  connec- 
tion or  identity  of  these  two  modes  of  the  divine  nature  ; the  mind 
is  a mode  of  the  divine  thought,  the  body  of  the  divide  extension, 
and  both  are  alike  attributes  of  the  same  substance.  Accordingly, 
mind  and  body  are  essentially  one ; they  are  two  different,  but  cor- 
responding representations  of  the  one  divine  essence.  The  body 
is  the  object  of  the  mind,  the  mind  the  idea  of  the  body,  and  they 
are  united  to  each  other  through  life,  not  because  there  is  any 
direct  connection  between  them,  but  because  there  is  a funda- 
mental unity.* 

Having  thus  explained  the  nature  of  the  soul  generally,  Spinoza 

* Part  II.  prop.  x.  xi.  xiii.  It  will  be  seen  that  this  is  the  full  development  of  the 
Cartesian  doctrine  of  occasional  causes,  viewed  in  the  light  of  a pantheistic  philosophy. 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


129 


proceeds  to  deduce  logically,  and  connectedly,  a whole  theory  of 
psychology.*  Mind  itself  not  being  an  existence,  but  only  an  idea, 
or  succession  of  ideas,  all  mental  phenomena  must  be  ideas  like- 
wise, that  is,  must  be  mind  in  its  different  states.  The  term  under- 
standing embraces  all  the  phenomena  included  under  the  term 
knowledge.  First  of  all,  the  mind,  by  virtue  of  its  connection 
with  its  own  body,  comprehends  all  the  various  affections  of  body 
in  general ; this  is  knowledge  of  the  secondary  kind,  which  is  gen- 
erally referred  to  sensation  as  the  source,  and  which  Spinoza  terms 
vague  experience.]  Besides  this  sensible  intuition,  however,  which 
is  a mode  of  thought  determined  by  other  modes,  and  consequently 
vague  and  inadequate,  there  is  also  an  intellectual  intuition,  by 
which  we  gaze  at  once  upon  the  infinite  attributes  of  Being  itself. 
This  knowledge  is  clear,  distinct,  and  adequate.^  Between  these 
two  extremes  comes  the  region  of  deductive  knowledge,  which  is 
clear  and  adequate  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  does  not  grasp  the  first 
principles  of  truth,  and  consequently  is  incomplete. § From  this 
theory  of  the  understanding,  Spinoza  describes  the  sources  of 
error,  and  determines  the  validity  of  knowledge,  properly  so  called. 

In  the  third  part  of  the  Ethics,  we  are  introduced  to  the  origin 
and  nature  of  the  passions.  All  existence  is  a chain,  of  which 
each  part  is  dependent  upon  the  rest.  Every  particular  mode  of 
the  divine  extension  and  thought  exists  apart  from  the  infinite 
essence,  by  a balance  of  forces,  which  keep  it  distinctively  in  be- 
ing. The  human  mind  is  simply  a link  in  the  chain  of  existence, 
and  is  retained  in  being  distinct  from  the  infinite  essence,  by  the 
activity  which  operates  from  within  upon  the  world  around,  and 
by  the  action  of  all  other  things  upon  it.  Man  is  a balance  of 
powers,  and  the  tension  by  which  he  subsists  is  termed  passion.  If 
there  is  a perfect  equilibrium  between  the  mind  and  everything 
else,  passion  is  silent ; it  still  exists,  but  exists  only  as  a force, 
which  is  exactly  counteracted  by  other  forces  bearing  upon  it. 
If  the  mind  pass  from  a less  state  of  action  to  a greater,  overcom- 
ing the  powers  by  which  it  is  controlled,  then  we  experience  joy ; 
if  it  pass  from  a greater  state  of  action  to  a less,  then  we  experi- 
ence grief.  From  these  two  all  the  other  passions  are  generated/ 

The  fourth  and  fifth  part  of  the  Ethics  refer  to  the  slavery  and 
freedom  of  the  will,  the  former  arising  from  the  entire  subjugation 

* This  does  not  exclude  the  use  of  those  higher  processes  of  psychology,  by  which 
the  validity  of  his  primary  axioms  is  established.  That  the  method  of  reflection  is 
primarily  necessary,  he  has  affirmed  in  his  “ Tractatus,”  p.  162. 

f De  Mente,  prop.  xvi.  and  xxiv.  to  xxix.  Ibid.  prop.  xl.  ^ Ibid,  schol.  ii. 


130 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  the  higher  reason  to  the  passions,  the  latter  from  putting  the 
passions  under  control  of  the  reason.  It  is  clear,  however,  that  in 
the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  freedom  can  have  no  place  in  the 
system  of  Spinoza,  with  reference  either  to  man  or  to  God. 
Everything  wears  the  aspect  of  a vast  mechanism,  moving  for- 
ward by  the  impulse  of  eternal  fate.  God  is  free  from  all  outward 
constraint,  but  is  a necessary  Being  as  regards  the  laws  of  his 
eternal  development.  Man  is  termed  free,  as  containing  within 
him  a certain  amount  of  action ; but  he  lives  and  acts  from  first 
to  last,  a link  in  the  chain  of  fate,  by  the  same  inexorable  necessity. 

Hence,  there  is  a twofold  aspect  in  which  Ethics  may  be  viewed. 
Regarding  man  on  the  one  hand  in  his  phenomenal,  or  on  the  other 
hand  in  his  absolute  relations,  we  may  estimate  good  and  evil,  vice 
and  virtue,  merit  and  demerit,  either  on  the  lower  ground  of  mere 
phenomena,  or  on  the  higher  ground  of  absolute  reality.  If  we 
look  at  human  life  on  the  lower  ground,  if  we  regard  all  things 
simply  as  they  seem  to  the  senses  and  the  imagination,  then  man 
appears  to  be  a free  agent ; but  it  is  an  appearance  perfectly  false 
and  delusive.  We  term  things  contingent,  just  because  we  are 
unable  by  the  senses  to  rise  upwards  to  the  contemplation  of  the 
great  law  by  which  they  are  eternally  fixed.  We  seem  to  have 
the  notions  of  good  and  evil,  but  they  are  merely  mutilated  or  in- 
adequate conceptions,  suited  to  the  delusive  belief  of  a free  agency, 
which  does  not  really  exist.  In  this  sphere  of  our  knowledge, 
good  is  synonymous  with  what  is  agreeable,  evil  with  what  is  in- 
jurious. Every  man’s  desire  must  be  the  law  of  his  practical  life. 
He  has  no  choice  but  to  follow  out  his  passions  to  whatsoever  they 
may  prompt  him.  Self-enjoyment  and  self-preservation  are  in  fact 
the  sole  rule  of  his  conduct.  The  difference  between  the  good 
man  and  the  bad  is  simply  that  the  former  has  a greater  sum  of 
action  and  consequent  enjoyment  in  him  than  the  latter.  Right 
is  the  only  correlate  of  power,  and  can  never  be  really  violated 
except  by  a deficiency  of  might ; so  that  the  object  of  all  govern- 
ment is  the  exercise  of  force,  and  all  law  is  limitation.  In  this 
respect  the  philosophy  of  Hobbes  and  Spinoza,  i.  e.  the  extremes 
of  sensationalism  and  idealism,  meet,  and  evolve  the  same  conclu- 
sions. 

These  conclusions,  so  sweeping  in  their  nature,  and  terrible  in 
their  moral  results,  were  afterwards  contravened  by  viewing  man 
in  his  pure  and  absolute  relations.  Here  reason  comes  into  action, 
and  gazing  not  upon  phenomena,  but  upon  reality,  lifts  us  upwards 


DESCARTES,  MALEBRANCHE,  AND  SPINOZA. 


131 


into  a spiritual  life,  where  everything  appears  under  a new  aspect. 
From  this  elevation  we  look  down  with  pity  and  contempt  upon 
those  who  are  the  slaves  of  the  senses — the  victims  of  passion. 
I The  perfect  life  we  now  see  to  be  the  life  of  pure  reason ; in  which 
' we  rise  to  the  contemplation  of  God,  and  by  means  of  which  the 
L.  divine  thought  realizes  itself  in  us.  Here  all  passion,  all  conten- 
tion, all  delusion,  ceases.  Raised  to  a perfect  union  with  the 
Divine  essence,  we  are  filled  with  the  knowledge  and  the  love  of 
God,  in  which  knowledge  and  love  we  find  at  length  the  perfec- 
tion, the  bliss,  and  eternal  repose  of  our  being.* 

Such  are  the  general  outlines  of  Spinoza’s  philosophy — a phi- 
losophy in  which  our  whole  individuality  is  absorbed  in  the  Divine 
substance,  in  which  human  freedom  gives  place  to  the  most  abso- 
lute fatalism,  and  in  which  God,  deprived  of  all  personality, 
becomes  synonymous  with  the  universe,  embracing  in  himself 
alone  its  endless  phenomena. 

The  foundation  of  all  these  results  is  to  be  found  in  the  full 
expansion  of  the  error,  in  which,  as  we  have  seen,  both  Descartes 
and  Malebranche  were  involved.  Both  these  philosophers  ad- 
mitted the  three  fundamental  notions  of  the  human  reason — the 
finite  self,  finite  nature,  and  the  absolute ; but  they  manifested  a 
constantly  increasing  tendency  to  make  the  last  predominant, 
while  they  proportionally  narrowed  the  sphere  of  the  two  former. 
Malebranche,  as  we  saw,  went  so  far  as  to  deny  all  secondary 
causes,  and  to  rest  the  evidence  of  the  material  world  simply  on 
revelation.  One  more  step  only  was  needed  to  complete  this 
movement  of  objective  idealism,  and  absorb  both  man  and  nature 
in  God.  This  is  precisely  the  fundaaiental  principle  of  Spino- 
zism — a principle  upon  which  he  has  built  a system  of  metaphysical 
and  ethical  philosophy  with  the  most  rigid  logic  and  admirable 
ingenuity. 

With  Spinoza,  the  development  of  Cartesianism,  properly  so 
called,  ended.  He  pushed  its  principles  to  their  utmost  length, 
exhibited  the  results  to  which  they  must  necessarily  give  rise, 
evolved  a twofold  system  of  ethics,  which  to  most  minds  appear 
absolutely  contradictor/  of  each  other,  and  left  a monument  of  his 

* The  sentiments  we  briefly  combined  in  the  above  two  or  three  paragraphs,  are 
developed  in  the  last  two  parts  of  the  Ethics.  The  whole  of  the  reasoning  is  here  so 
closely  connected,  that  it  is  useless  to  refer  to  any  particular  propositions  in  connection 
with  so  brief  and  popular  a view  as  I have  thought  it  best  to  give  in  the  text. 
The  reader  wh»  seeks  lurther  information,  can  procure  M.  Saisset’s  French  edition,  and 
will  find  an  admirable  guide  to  the  study  of  the  whole  system  in  his  introductory 
Essay. 


132 


MODERN  riHLOSOPIIY. 


genius,  which  multitudes  have  admired,  but  no  one  has  ever  fully 
adopted.  We  come  back,  therefore,  now  to  our  own  country,  that 
we  may  inquire  what  tendencies  towards  idealism,  and  what 
effects  of  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  meanwhile  manifested  them- 
selves in  the  land  of  Bacon  and  Hobbes. 


Sect.  II. — Second  Movement — English  Polemical  Idealism. 

The  idealistic  school,  which  we  have  just  reviewed,  was  an 
original  one,  and  seemed  to  flow  naturally  from  the  very  men- 
tal constitution  and  tendencies  of  those  by  whom  it  was  founded 
and  perfected.  The  same  remark,  we  shall  hereafter  see,  may 
be  applied  perhaps  to  an  equal  extent  to  that  school  of  German 
idealism,  which,  in  the  present  day,  has  borne  such  abundant 
fruits.  With  the  English  idealism  the  case  is  different ; for 
whenever  this  tendency  has  manifested  itself  strongly  in  our 
countr}^  it  has  rather  been  brought  out  in  opposition  to  the 
growing  errors  of  sensationalism,  than  arisen  from  any  sponta- 
neous movement  of  the  national  mind.  We  would  not,  indeed, 
deny  altogether  to  the  national  mind  of  our  country  (as  some- 
times has  been  done)  the  vigorous  power  of  purely  abstract 
thinking  ; but  still  the  fact  is  not  to  be  disputed,  that  the  prac- 
tical element  has  ever  been  in  the  ascendency,  and  that  the 
rationalistic  method  of  philosophizing  has  seldom  been  carried  to 
any  great  extent,  except  it  has  been  occasioned  and  almost  neces- 
sitated by  the  excesses  of  the  opposite  school.  Hence  we  desig- 
nate the  early  English  movement  in  this  direction  by  the  appel- 
lation of  polemical  idealism. 

Every  energetic  movement  of  sensationalism  in  the  philosophical 
history  of  our  country  has  opposed  to  it  a corresponding  move- 
ment of  Idealism.  It  was  the  rnaterialism  of  Hobbes  which  first 
gave  rise  to  the  rationalistic  method  in  England,  and  after  that,  it 
was  the  empiricism  of  Locke  which  nourished  it ; it  was  Locke’s 
sceptical  successors  again,  who  drove  the  idealistic  tendency  for- 
ward to  the  extreme  of  Berkeleyism  , while  it  was  Hume  who 
roused  up  the  warfare  in  which  the  present  metaphysical  school  of 
Scotland  was  cradled.  To  the  men,  therefore,  who  took  the  chief 
part  in  these  contests,  it  is  our  pre-duty  to  revert. 

The  materialism  of  Hobbes  was  one  of  the  boldest  attempts  at 
forming  a complete  system  of  human  knowledge  which  the  his- 


ENGLISH  POLEMICAL  IDEALISM. 


133 


tory  of  philosophy  exhibits,  and  it  was  conveyed  in  that  logical, 
and  at  the  same  time  earnest,  popular,  and  attractive  style,  which 
could  not  fail  to  acquire  for  it  considerable  attention.  Edward 
Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury  was  a contemporary  with  Hobbes,  and 
though  he  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a direct  opponent,  (inasmuch  as 
none  of  his  works  were  written  with  this  precise  end  in  view) 
yet  it  was  undoubtedly  the  prevalence  of  ultra-Baconian  prin- 
ciples, which  he  saw  spreading  around  him,  that  gave  rise  to 
the  opposite  principles,  which  that  acute  philosopher  advocated. 
Much  as  this  writer  has  fallen  out  of  notice,  yet  in  his  works  is  to 
be  found  the  germ  of  almost  all  the  arguments  which  were  after- 
wards brought  forward  in  support  of  the  ideal  or  a priori  element 
in  human  knowledge.  He  asserted,  as  strongly  as  Descartes 
did,  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  and  maintained  as  well  the 
existence  of  a rational  instinct  {rationalis  instinctus)  as  the  source 
at  once  of  man’s  highest  knowledge,  and  of  his  purest  religious 
sentiment.  The  opposition  in  which  his  philosophy  stands  to  that 
of  Hobbes,  as  well  as  to  that  which  Locke  afterwards  originated, 
is  seen  from  his  fundamental  position — that  the  mind,  instead  of 
being  like  a blank  sheet  of  paper,  is  like  a closed  book.  This 
book,  he  shows,  is  opened  by  the  aid  of  experience,  that  is,  by  the 
influence  of  the  external  world  acting  through  the  senses,  and 
when  opened,  shows  a number  of  general  principles  {communes 
notiones)  inscribed  there,  to  which  every  question  must  be  ulti- 
mately referred  as  to  a common  and  infallible  standard.  On  the 
question  of  religion,  it  is  true,  his  conclusions  were  as  much  too 
sweeping  on  the  one  side,  as  Hobbes’s  were  on  the  other,  inas- 
much as  he  advocated  a system  of  complete  rationalism ; but  on 
purely  philosophical  questions,  few  men,  as  unaided  and  indepen- 
dent thinkers,  have  come  nearer  to  the  truth  respecting  some  of 
the  most  important  points,  than  did  the  philosopher  of  Cherbury.* 

* The  principal  work  of  Lord  Herbert  is  a “ Tractatus  de  veritate  prout  distinguitur 
a revelatione,  a verisimili,  a possibili,  et  a falso,”  London,  1645.  This  work  is  now 
little  known,  owing  most  probably  to  the  frequent  obscurity  of  the  style  rendering 
it  repulsive  to  general  readers.  The  author  begins  by  laying  down  a number  of 
axiomatic  truths,  which  may  be  taken  as  fixed  points  to  start  from.  Next,  he  makes  a 
classification  of  the  kinds  of  truth,  which  we  can  imagine  to  exist  in  the  world.  From 
this  he  passes  on  to  the  conditions,  under  which  we  can  be  said  to  comprehend  truth ; 
and  it  is  here  that  he  explains  particularly  his  theory  of  “ communes  notiones,”  which 
comes,  in  fact,  very  near  to  that  of  Kant  on  the  forms  of  the  understanding.  After 
developing  his  theory  of  the  natural  instinct,  as  the  faculty  from  which  these  common 
notions  arise,  he  ends  by  applying  his  psychology  to  the  subject  of  religion.  Tlie  best 
English  account  of  Lord  Herbert’s  writings  is,  I believe,  that  of  Mr.  Hallam,  “ Lit.  of 
Europe,”  vol.  ii.  p.  381.  See  also  Tennemann’s  “ Grundriss,”  p.  358.  [I  have 
just  seen  in  addition,  the  analysis  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton,  which  is  admirably  clear  and 
succinct,]  (Reid’s  collected  Writings,  p.  781.) 


134 


MODERN  PHIEOSOPHY. 


The  professed  antagonist  of  Hobbism,  however,  was  Richard 
Cumberland,  Bishop  of  Peterborough,  a man  of  the  most  extensive 
learning,  and  convei’sant  with  every  branch  of  philosophy  as  it 
then  existed.  It  was  to  the  moral  principles  which  Hobbes  advo- 
cated that  the  chief  hostility  was  generally  felt,  and  accordingly 
the  polemical  philosophy  of  this  period,  led  on  by  Cumberland,  was 
for  the  most  part  confined  to  the  department  of  ethics.  To  the 
unqualified  egotism  of  Hobbes,  this  prelate  opposed  certain  connate 
principles,  termed  by  him  laws  of  nature,  according  to  which  men 
are  prompted  to  the  exercise  of  all  the  social  feelings,  and  to  the 
construction  of  the  whole  framework  of  society.  These  laws  he 
considered  to  be  cognizable  by  right  reason — reason  being  the 
supreme  judge  of  right  and  wrong,  the  discerner  of  the  great  law 
of  benevolence  impressed  upon  the  whole  constitution  and  course 
of  nature.  The  points,  therefore,  where  Cumberland  shows  a 
leaning  to  the  rationalistic  method,  are  those  in  which  he  makes 
reason  the  judge  of  all  our  moral  relations,  and  maintains  the  ex- 
istence of  certain  natural  laws,  quite  unconnected  with  experience, 
which  impel  us  both  to  the  perception  and  performance  of  moral 
duties.* 

Contemporary  with  Cumberland  was  another  thinker  of  the  same 
order,  but  of  still  greater  compass,  if  not  of  greater  originality  of 
mind.  Amongst  all  the  early  philosophical  writers  of  our  country, 
there  is  no  one  who  displayed  so  complete  a mastery  over  the 
metaphysical  systems  of  antiquity,  and  no  one  who  has  left  behind 
him  so  vast  a monument  of  varied  and  accurate  learning,  as  Ralph 
Cudworth,  the  author  of  the  “ Intellectual  System.”  He  belonged 
to  a company  of  Cambridge  theologians,  sometimes  called  Armin- 
ians,  sometimes  Latitude-men,  or  Latitudinarians,  but  more  accu- 
rately denominated  Platonic  divines,  who  to  a sincere  love  of 
Christianity,  and  a corresponding  purity  of  life,  united  a deep  ad- 
miration for  the  philosophy  of  Plato.  From  this  source  there  was 
infused  into  the  philosophical  principles  of  Cudworth,  a strong 
tendency  to  the  same  species  of  lofty  idealism,  which  distinguished 
the  writings  of  the  great  founder  of  the  Academy.  Deeply  im- 

* Cumberland’s  great  work,  “ De  Legibus  Naturse,”  is  important  as  being  the  first  in 
which  the  principles  of  morals  and  natural  right  are  investigated  upon  a purely 
philosophical  basis,  apart  from  the  speculations  of  the  ancient  moralists.  In  his  theory 
respecting  the  common  good  as  containing  the  essence  of  virtue,  he  is  the  forerunner  of 
the  utilitarian  systems  ; while  in  his  investigation  of  the  moral  laws  that  may  be  found 
impressed  upon  the  whole  course  of  nature,  he  gave  the  germ  which  Butler  afterwards 
so  fruitfully  developed.  For  a full  account  of  Cumberland’s  work,  consult  Hallam’s 
“ Lit.  of  Europe,”  also  some  remarks  by  Sir.  James  Mackintosh,  in  his  “ Dissertation 
on  Ethical  Philosophy.” 


ENGLISH  POLEMICAL  IDEALISM. 


135 


bued  with  the  spirit  of  that  soaring  philosophy,  which  regarded 
matter  as  the  basis  of  everything  grovelling,  and  which  only  ad- 
mitted true  science  at  all  to  exist,  until  the  soul,  shaking  off  the 
trammels  of  sense,  gazes  immediately  upon  the  pure  ideas  of  the 
Divine  mind,  he  looked  with  alarm  and  contempt  upon  a system, 
like  that  of  Hobbes,  which  made  matter  or  body  the  object  of  all 
philosophy,  and  brought  down  to  the  level  of  sense  the  most  pure 
and  ethereal  elements  of  the  human  consciousness.  Convinced 
that  such  principles  would  degrade  humanity,  would  involve  the 
grossest  fatalism,  and  would  banish  God  himself  from  the  universe 
which  he  had  made,  Cudworth  formed  the  plan  of  tracing  all  such 
errors  up  to  their  primary  source,  of  exposing  their  futility,  and  of 
tearing  up  by  their  roots  doctrines,  which  he  saw  must  tend  to 
destroy  all  moral  distinctions,  and  overturn  all  religious  worship. 
The  “Intellectual  System”  was  the  product  of  this  design,  in 
which  he  combats  every  possible  form  of  atheism  with  much  acute 
reasoning  and  most  amazing  learning.  This  formed,  however, 
only  the  first  part  of  his  proposed  task ; it  is  evident  from  the  pref- 
ace that  he  contemplated  two  other  parts  to  complete  it. 

He  shows  in  the  introduction  to  that  work,  that  there  are  three 
false  hypotheses  of  the  universe,  or  three  possible  modes  of  fatal- 
ism ; the  first  of  which  is  absolute  atheism,  the  second  a theism 
without  morality  or  religion,  and  the  third  a theism  which  admits 
moral  distinctions  and  religious  worship,  but  yet  which  makes  no 
stand  against  fatalism  by  an  enlightened  doctrine  of  human  lib- 
erty.* Atheism,  then,  is  demolished  in  the  work  to  which  we  have 
already  referred,  namely,  the  “ Intellectual  System.”  The  treatise 
on  Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality,  published  after  his  death,  was 
in  all  probability  the  sketch  of  the  second  part ; and  there  now 
exists  among  his  manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum  a “ Discourse 
on  Liberty  and  Necessity,”  which  we  have  every  reason  to  believe 
was  the  outline  of  the  third. f 

It  is  in  the  second  treatise,  that  on  “Eternal  and  Immutable 


♦ “ Fatalists  that  hold  the  necessity  of  human  actions  may  be  reduced  to  three 
heads.  1st,  Such  as,  asserting  the  Deity,  suppose  it  irrespectively  to  decree  and  de- 
termine all  things,  and  thereby  make  all  actions  necessary  to  us.  2dly,  Such  as 
suppose  a Deity,  that,  acting  wisely,  but  necessarily,  did  contrive  the  general  frame  of 
things  in  the  world  ; from  whence,  by  a series  of  causes,  doth  unavoidably  result 
whatsoever  is  done  in  it.  And,  lastly,  such  as  hold  the  material  necessity  of  aU  things 
without  a Deity.” — Intellectual  System,  Book  I.  sec.  i. 

It  will  be  observed  that  Cudworth  takes  up  these  three  hypotheses  in  the  inverse  order 
to  that  in  which  they  are  here  stated.  Th£  edition  from  which  the  above  passage  is 
quoted,  is  the  first,  published  in  London,  1678. 

f This  last  Discourse,  I find,  was  published  about  ten  years  ago. 


136 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Morality,”  that  Cud  worth  shows  more  especially  his  firm  oppo- 
sition to  every  species  of  sensationalism.  He  points  out  there 
with  great  clearness  the  fact,  that  the  mind  of  man  possesses  pure 
conceptions  {voi^fiaxa),  which  cannot  possibly  be  derived  from  the 
senses ; and  maintains,  with  Plato,  that  these  are  no  other  than  the 
eternal  truths,  which  must  ever  have  existed  in  the  mind  of  God, 
and  to  the  perception  of  which  the  human  mind  may  ever  increas- 
ingly attain.  “ If  we  reflect,”  he  says,  “ on  our  own  cogitations  of 
these  things  {vorj^axa)^  we  shall  sensibly  perceive  that  they  are 
not  phantastical,  {i.  e.  imaged  to  us  by  the  senses,)  but  noematical ; 
as,  for  example,  justice,  equity,  duty,  obligation,  cogitation,  opinion, 
intellection,  volition,  memory,  verity,  falsity,  cause,  effect,  genus, 
species,  nullity,  contingency,  possibility,  impossibility,  and  innu- 
merable others.”*  The  rationalistic  or  ideal  tendency  of  Cud- 
worth  shines  forth  most  clearly  throughout  the  whole  of  this  trea- 
tise. In  the  second  chapter  of  the  fourth  book  we  have  the  two 
elements  of  human  knowledge — that  from  sense  and  that  from 
reason — almost  as  clearly  pointed  out  as  it  was  afterwards  by  Kant 
himself  Speaking  of  the  phenomena  of  nature,  he  says,  “ For  the 
sense  of  man  and  brute  there  appears  nothing  else  in  it,  but  as  in 
other  so  many  inky  scrawls ; i.  e.  nothing  but  figures  and  colors. 
But  to  the  mind,  which  hath  a participation  of  the  Divine  wisdom 
that  made  it,  and  being  printed  all  over  with  the  same  archetypal 
seal,  upon  occasion  of  those  sensible  delineations,  and  taking  notice 
of  whatsoever  is  cognate  to  it,  exerting  its  own  inward  activity 
from  thence,  will  have  not  only  a wonderful  science,  and  large 
prospects  of  other  thoughts  laid  open  before  it,  and  variety  of 
knowledge,  logical,  mathematical,  and  moral,  displayed ; but  also 
clearly  read  the  Divine  goodness  and  wisdom  in  every  page  of  this 
great  volume,  as  it  were,  written  in  large  and  legible  characters.” 
After  the  systematic  inculcation  of  such  sentiments  as  these,  we 
may  without  hesitation  place  him  down  as  the  great  philosopher 
of  his  age,  in  whose  works  we  find  a complete  counterpoise  against 
the  more  popular  but  far  less  erudite  writings  of  Hobbes. 

Cudworth  died  about  four  years  after  the  publication  of  Locke’s 
“ Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding,”  so  that  we  may  regard 
him  as  closing  the  controversy  against  Hobbes,  and  representing 
the  final  state  of  the  rationalistic  philosophy  before  Locke  intro- 
duced a new  era  into  the  history  of  metaphysics.  The  next 
appearance,  therefore,  which  the  idealistic  tendency  made  in 

» Treatise  concerning  Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality,  p.  140.  London,  1731. 


ENGLISH  POLEMICAL  IDEALISM. 


137 


England,  was  the  reaction  that  took  place  after  Locke’s  death, 
against  the  principles  he  had  advocated  in  his  Essay. 

' Lord  Shaftesbury,  who  had  been  an  intimate  friend  and  com- 
panion of  Locke,  was  one  of  the  first  to  point  out  the  dangerous 
influence  which  his  total  rejection  of  all  innate  practical  principles 
was  likely  to  exert  upon  the  interests  of  morality.  So  strongly  did 
he  feel  this,  that  in  one  of  his  Letters,  in  which  he  is  denouncing 
the  popular  deism  of  his  day,  he  says,  “ It  was  Mr.  Locke  that 
struck  at  all  fundamentals,  threw  all  order  and  virtue  out  of  the 
world,  and  made  the  very  ideas  of  these  (which  are  the  same  as 
those  of  God)  unnatural  and  without  foundation  in  our  minds.” 
Not  that  Shaftesbury  admitted  the  existence  of  innate  ideas  in  the 
Cartesian  sense,  or  held  any  principles  that  could  lead  to  a system 
of  pure  idealism ; but  he  saw  clearly  the  consequences  to  which 
Locke’s  sensationalism  must  ultimately  lead,  and  maintained  that 
if  we  have  no  ideas  actually  innate,  yet  we  have  a nature  and  a 
reason  so  constituted,  that  they  necessarily  give  rise  to  many  abso- 
lute conceptions,  which  could  never  have  been  derived  simply 
from  the  intimations  of  our  senses.  To  the  just  and  elegant  ob- 
servations of  Shaftesbury  upon  ethical  questions,  the  subsequent 
speculations  of  Butler  and  others  were  not  a little  indebted ; his 
in  many  cases  were  the  germs  of  thought,  which  they  more  fully 
expanded.* 

Wollaston,  the  acute  author  of  the  “Religion  of  Nature  Delin- 
eated,” must  also  be  regarded  as  an  opponent  of  Locke’s  funda- 
mental principles.  The  ground  he  takes  in  his  ethical  system, 
namely,  that  virtue  consists  in  acting  according  to  the  truth  of 
things,  is  a sufficient  proof  that  he  regarded  some  conceptions  as 
absolutely  necessary,  and  as  originating  in  the  very  constitution  of 
man’s  rational  nature. 

The  great  metaphysician,  however,  of  this  period,  and  unques- 
tionably one  of  the  first  that  our  country  has  produced,  was  Dr. 
Samuel  Clarke.f  He  came  upon  the  stage  just  in  the  very  heat 
of  the  controversy,  which  arose  soon  after  the  death  of  Locke, 
respecting  the  philosophical  and  the  moral  principles  which  that 
great  thinker  had  advocated,  and  opposed  himself  to  the  sceptics, 

* See  particulfirly  his  “ Characteristics,”  treatise  the  fourth,  in  which  many  cursory 
sugsrestions  occur,  wiiich  show  how  near  the  author  was  to  the  development  of 
the  theory  of  a moral  sense.  Leibnitz  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  writings  of 
Shaftesbury;  and  Mackintosh  (Dissertation,  p.  93)  considers  that  they  “contain  more 
intimations  of  an  original  and  important  nature  on  the  theory  of  ethics,  than  perhaps 
any  preceding  work  of  modern  times.” 

f Born  at  Norwich  1675,  died  1729. 


138 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


who  were  driving  these  principles  to  excess,  with  a rigor  and 
power  of  argumentation  very  rarely  to  be  found  even  amongst 
philosophers  themselves.  There  were  three  points  upon  which 
Clarke  more  especially  bent  the  whole  of  his  mental  energy;  in 
all  of  wliich  he  showed  his  strong  opposition  to  sensationalism, 
and  evinced  a decided  tendency  to  the  rationalistic  method  of 
philosophy. 

The  first  of  these  was  his  celebrated  argument  for  the  being  of 
a God,  as  furnishing  the  foundation  principle  of  natural  theology. 
This  argument  rests  upon  the  fact,  that  we  have  the  conceptions 
of  time  and  space,  expressive  of  certain  attributes  or  qualities — 
the  one  eternal,  the  other  illimitable  in  its  nature.  But  every 
quality  must  have  a co-existent  subject  to  which  it  belongs ; and 
therefore,  he  argues,  there  must  exist  a being  who  possesses  these 
attributes  of  infinity ; that  is,  there  must  be  a God.*  The  simi- 
larity between  Clarke’s  argument  and  that  of  Spinoza  in  many 
points,  is  at  once  evident.  They  both  started  with  the  idea  of 
necessary  existence,  showing  that  if  anything  exist  now,  something 
must  have  existed  from  eternity.  The  distinction  between  the 
two  arguments  arises  from  their  different  determination  of  the  ab- 
solute idea,  from  which  our  reasoning  must  commence.  Clarke 
affirmed  the  idea  of  infinite  attributes  to  be  fundamental,  and  then 
inferred  an  infinite  substance.  Spinoza  began  with  the  infinite 
substance,  and  inferred  the  attributes.  The  result  was,  that  the 
latter  rested  finally  in  the  notion  of  substance  as  identical  with 
God,  and  reduced  the  common  theism  to  pantheism ; the  former, 
reasoning  from  the  attributes,  was  open  upon  other  evidence  to 
conceive  of  them  as  existing  in  a Divine  personality, — in  the  God 
of  Christianity.  The  clearness,  however,  with  which  both  grasped 
the  idea  of  the  infinite,  as  one  of  the  necessary  conceptions  of  the 
human  mind,  is  in  either  case  abundantly  manifest. 

The  second  point  for  which  Clarke  is  celebrated,  is  his  theory 
respecting  the  ground  of  morals.  Here  he  contends  that  there  are 
certain  fixed  relations  in  the  universe,  cognizable  by  the  human 
reason,  and  that  all  virtue  consists  in  acting  according  to  the  fit- 
ness of  things.  That  this  theory  of  morals  is  correct,  we  should 
by  no  means  admit,  inasmuch  as  it  leaves  out  altogether  the  emo- 
tional element  in  our  moral  nature  ; but  still  it  serves  us  for  another 

* Clarke’s  “ Demonstration  of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God,”  was  first  delivered 
in  two  courses  of  sermons  delivered  at  the  Boylean  Lecture  in  Oxford,  and  afterwards 
published  with  the  above  title,  London,  1705.  The  argument  above  explained  may  be 
viewed  as  a kind  of  appendix  to  his  main  argument,  grounded  on  necessary  existence. 


ENGLISH  POLEMICAL  IDEALISM. 


139 


illustration  of  the  idealistic  tendency  by  which  his  philosophy  was 
characterized,  and  shows  the  advance  which  was  making  towards 
sound  principles  in  morals,  as  well  as  in  metaphysics.* 

The  third  point  (that  on  which  Clarke’s  philosophical  fame 
chiefly  rests,  and  to  which  he  devoted  a very  considerable  portion 
of  His  life)  was  his  controversy  upon  liberty  and  necessity — a con- 
troversy in  which  he  stood  opposed  to  Leibnitz  and  Collins,  and 
by  which  he  endeavored  to  overturn,  finally,  the  fatalistic  conclu- 
sions of  Spinozism.  Throughout  this  contest,  the  victory  in  which 
was  claimed  on  both  sides,  Clarke  maintained  most  powerfully 
the  doctrine  of  Free-will,  and  accordingly  here,  also,  manifested 
his  opposition  to  the  philosophy  which  tends  to  merge  the  idea  of 
self  either  into  that  of  nature  or  of  God.  Of  the  three  fundamental 
conceptions,  therefore,  from  which  all  philosophy  springs,  those  of 
finite  self,  and  the  infinite,  held  in  the  writings  of  Clarke  by  far 
the  most  prominent  place ; so  that  we  may  properly  regard  him  as 
the  chief  representative  of  the  idealistic  tendency  during  the  age 
immediately  succeeding  Locke,  as  Cudworth  was  during  the  age 
that  immediately  preceded  him.f 

The  abstruse  controversies  which  were  carried  on  in  the  manner 
just  described,  between  the  deistical  writers  of  the  age,  and  the 
metaphysical  theologians  by  whom  they  were  opposed,  exerted  an 
influence  anything  but  favorable  to  the  interests  of  religion.  This 
arose  partly  from  the  prominence  which  was  thus  afforded  to  the 
objections  of  an  acute  scepticism ; and  partly  from  the  abstruse 
manner,  devoid,  as  it  appeared,  of  all  religious  feeling,  by  which 
these  objections  were  answered.  Hence  originated  several  bold 
and  remarkable  attempts  to  remove  the  scene  of  the  deistic  con- 
troversy away  from  an  arena  so  remote  from  men’s  ordinary  habits 
of  thought,  as  that  upon  which  it  had  been  hitherto  carried  on,  and 
to  concentrate  it  upon  the  more  general  objections  that  were  then 
raised  against  revealed  religion  as  a whole. 


* Clarke’s  moral  system  is  contained  in  a “ Discourse  on  the  Unchangeable  Obliga- 
tions of  Natural  Religion.”  His  vindication  of  the  disinterestedness  of  virtuous  action, 
and  the  absolute  character  of  right,  is  worthy  of  the  highest  admiration,  and  does  not 
fall  behind  Kant  himself  in  its  elevated  view  of  moral  law,  as  resting  upon  the  very 
nature  of  God.  Had  he  taken  into  account  the  moral  feelings,  and  the  supremacy  of 
conscience,  little  would  have  been  wanting  for  a complete  system  of  ethics. 

f See  his  “ Philosophical  Inquiry,”  concerning  human  liberty.  London,  1715.  Also 
his  Letter  to  Dodwell.  in  which  he  has  argued  with  great  power  for  the  natural  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  This  letter  was  afterwards  published  with  four  others,  in  which  the 
line  of  argument  was  defended  against  certain  attacks  which  it  had  called  forth.  In 
these  letters  the  metaphysical  arguments  for  immortality  are  stated  probably  as  clearly 
as  they  ever  will  be.  Their  conclusiveness  neither  here  nor  elsewhere  is  made  very 
apparent. 


140 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Mr.  Joseph  Butler,  at  that  time  a young  man  in  the  Presbyte- 
rian seminary  at  Tewkesbury,  entered  into  a correspondence  with 
Clarke  upon  his  a priori  argument,  in  which  correspondence  he 
showed  the  germs  of  that  philosophical  genius  which  has  since 
rendered  his  name  pre-eminent  amongst  the  moralists  of  the  last 
century. 

On  joining  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  becoming  preacher  at  the 
Rolls,  Butler  summoned  all  his  energies  to  arrest  the  progress  of 
scepticism,  by  showing  that  the  principles  both  of  morality  and  re- 
ligion lay,  as  it  were,  embedded  in  the  very  core  and  centre  of  human 
nature.  In  the  first  three  of  a course  of  sermons,  which  he  pub- 
lished in  the  year  1726,  he  gave  what  is  still  admitted  to  be  one 
of  the  most  masterly  and  original  analyses  ever  attempted,  of  man’s 
moral  and  social  constitution.  Drawing  out  the  parallel  between 
man  as  an  individual,  and  mankind  as  a whole,  he  showed,  that  as 
the  various  parts  of  the  natural  bod}^  evince  a mutual  dependence 
upon  each  other,  just  so  man  in  society  can  only  exist  by  means  of 
certain  moral  relations,  originally  impressed  upon  it  by  God. 

The  moral  nature  of  mankind  he  detected  with  admirable  acute- 
ness, under  three  classes  of  phenomena.  First,  there  is  the  princi- 
ple of  benevolence  manifesting  itself  in  the  affections,  and  holding 
society  together  in  the  strong  bands  of  mutual  sympathy.  Secondly, 
there  ai'e  various  passions  of  our  nature,  distinct  from  the  princi- 
ple of  benevolence,  which  go  to  advance  the  stability  of  social  life  ; 
and,  thirdly,  there  is  the  conscience,  the  principle  of  moral  approba- 
tion and  disapprobation,  the  great  regulative  power,  which  governs, 
restrains,  and  directs  all  the  affections  and  passions,  just  as  the 
supreme  authority  in  a civil  government  manages  and  employs  the 
mere  physical  forces  of  the  empire. 

According  to  Butler,  therefore,  human  nature,  morally  consid- 
ered, consists  in  a variety  of  natural  instincts,  sympathies  and  pro- 
pensions, all  held  together  by  the  superintending  authority  of  con- 
science ; — a view  of  things  manifestly  inconsistent  with  a sensa- 
tional philosophy,  and  containing  a decided  element  of  idealism. 

To  carry  the  matter  still  further,  the  learned  prelate  went  on  to 
embrace  the  religious  as  well  as  the  moral  constitution  of  man  in 
his  argument,  and  succeeded  in  developing  the  most  striking  analo- 
gies between  the  actual  constitution  and  course  of  nature,  and  the 
truths  both  of  natural  and  revealed  religion.  In  the  sermons,  there- 
fore, we  have  the  development  of  man’s  moral  constitution,  as  fitted 
for  society  in  this  world ; in  the  Analogy  we  have  the  development 


ENGLISH  POLEMICAL  IDEALISM. 


141 


of  his  spiritual  constitution,  as  fitted  for  perfection  and  immortality 
hereafter ; the  two  together  forming,  perhaps,  the  most  complete 
exhibition  of  human  life  and  destiny,  grounded  upon  philosophical 
principles,  which  exist  in  our  own  language.  We  may  regard 
Butler,  therefore,  as  another  link  in  the  chain  of  philosophers,  by 
whom  the  ideal  element  has  been  asserted,  and  the  rationalistic 
method  employed  for  discovering  or  supporting  truth.* 

So  far  the  idealistic  tendency  had  kept  within  its  proper  bounds, 
contenting  itself  with  reproving  the  rashness  of  sensationalism,  or 
controverting  whatever  dangerous  conclusions  appeared  to  arise 
from  it ; and  had  not  the  followers  of  Locke  attempted  to  carry 
their  empirical  principles  to  a most  vicious  extreme,  it  is  probable 
that  no  form  of  extreme  idealism  would  ever  have  arisen.  The 
rapid  advances,  however,  which  were  made  by  the  sensationalists, 
towards  overturning  the  foundations  of  morality  and  religion,  sug- 
gested to  Dr.  afterwards  Bishop  Berkeley,  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing radically  wrong  in  a philosophy  which  evolved  such  danger- 
ous and  pernicious  consequences.  But  then,  where  was  the  error 
to  be  found,  and  in  what  did  it  consist  ? It  could  not  consist,  as 
Berkeley  supposed,  in  Locke’s  fundamental  principle,  that  all  our 
knowledge  consists  in  ideas  as  the  immediate  objects  of  conscious- 
ness, since  that  was  a principle  which  had  never  been  questioned 
from  the  time  when  it  was  asserted  by  Plato  and  Aristotle,  to  the 
time  when  it  was  put  into  so  clear  a light  by  the  great  author  of 
the  “ Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding.”  If,  therefore,  the 
lurking  error  was  not  to  be  found  in  Locke’s  psychological  prin- 
ciples, it  was  necessary  to  look  for  it  in  his  ontology ; that  is  to 
say,  in  his  method  of  transition  from  the  inward  world  of  ideas  to 
the  outward  world  of  actual  and  material  existence.  Here,  then, 
Berkeley  considered  that  he  had  found  the  root  of  the  whole  evil, 
which  had  infected  the  principles  of  human  belief,  and  which  con- 
sisted in  nothing  less  than  the  false  conclusion,  that  our  inward 
ideas  must  necessarily  imply  some  objective  material  existence, 
which  they  resemble,  and  by  which  they  are  originated.  The 
position  in  which  Berkeley  intrenched  himself  was  this — That,  as 
we  cannot  possibly  get  beyond  our  ideas,  these  ideas,  and  nothing 
else,  must  be  tbs  real  objects  of  our  knowledge.  To  the  plea,  that 

* The  complete  works  of  Butler  have  been  edited  by  Dr.  Halifax,  and  published  in 
one  vol.  8vo,  with  a dissertation  upon  Butler’s  views,  and  an  account  of  his  life.  Last 
edition  1845.  London ; H.  Washbourne.  Never,  perhaps,  were  the  moral  principles 
of  Butler  in  so  great  estimation  as  at  the  present  day.  The  sermons  on  “ Human  Na- 
ture” have  been  adopted  recently  as  the  text-book  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  several  of 
our  colleges  and  universities. 


142 


MODERN  , PHILOSOPHY. 


all  mankind  must  necessarily  believe  in  material  things,  he  an- 
swered that,  on  the  contrary,  all  mankind  believe  in  the  thing 
which  is  the  immediate  object  of  perception,  that  is,  in  the  idea, 
and  not  in  some  imaginary  substratum,  of  which  we  can  never 
have  any  sensible  evidence.*  To  confirm  this  view  of  the  case, 
he  exhibited,  with  great  ability,  the  indefiniteness  which  attaches 
to  all  such  notions  as  extension,  substance,  motion,  solidity,  body, 
&c. ; proved  by  the  very  same  arguments,  that  both  primary  and 
secondary  qualities  have  no  existence  distinct  from  the  mind  ;f 
exploded  all  the  different  hypotheses  by  which  the  existence  of 
matter  had  been  vindicated  and  concluded  at  length,  that  the 
very  essence  of  an  object  is  for  it  to  be  perceived  by  some  mind. 
In  one  word,  he  made  the  synthesis  by  which  attributes  are  united 
so  as  to  form  real  objects,  a purely  mental  one,  and  thus  rendered 
matter  a nonentity. § 

In  Berkeley’s  reasoning  upon  this  question,  w'e  should  not  fail  to 
observe,  that  there  are  two  distinct  conclusions  he  attempts  to 
draw ; the  one  is,  the  impossibility  of  our  ever  finding  a proof  that 
our  sensations  are  occasioned  by  objects  actually  material  (since  it 
is  as  easy  for  the  Deity  to  produce  them  in  us  without  such  objects 
as  with  them) ; the  other  conclusion  is,  that  matter  cannot  possibly 
exist,  without  involving  the  most  complete  absurdities.  In  the  first 
of  these  arguments,  the  whole  of  the  reasoning  is  confessedly  un- 
controvertible : allow  the  fundamental  axiom,  that  all  our  knowl- 
edge is  representative,  and  the  conclusion  he  draws  cannot  possibly 
be  avoided.  Nay  further,  in  whatever  way  we  attempt  to  reason 
on  the  same  subject,  we  shall  find  that  the  point  reduces  itself,  in 
the  last  analysis,  to  the  higher  question  respecting  the  existence  of 
an  objective  reality  apart  from  ourselves.  Berkeley  never  denied 
a phenomenal  world,  he  merely  rejected  its  materiality : and  we 
may  yet  find,  in  the  course  of  the  following  pages,  that,  however 
we  may  rebut  the  ideal  system,  on  which  the  prelate  grounded  his 
argument,  yet  still  the  material  hypothesis  of  the  world,  in  its 
ordinary  sense,  is  involved  in  too  many  difficulties  to  render  it  even 
probable,  much  less  demonstrably  true.  In  the  other  argument, 
however,  Berkeley  is  by  no  means  so  successful,  since  he  falls  into 
the  very  same  error  which  he  knew  so  well  how  to  expose  in  others. 

* The  clearest  and  simplest  statement  of  these  views  is  contained  in  the  three  Dia- 
logues between  Hylas  and  Philonous.  Vid.  Works  in  one  voi.  1837,  pp.  G7  and  71. 

t Ibid.  pp.  47  to  50. 

t See  Second  Dialogue. 

^ One  of  the  best  explications  of  Berkeleyism  is  to  be  found  in  Blackwood’s  Magazine 
for  June  1843,  where  his  Idealism  is  defended  with  great  ability. 


ENGLISH  POLEMICAL  IDEALISM. 


148 


True  it  is,  we  never  can  ]^rove  the  existe_nce  of  a_material  world ; 
but  equally  true  it  is,  that  can  never  prove  its,  non-existence,  or 
show  that  such  an  idea  must  necessarily  involve  absurdity  all  we 
can  do  is  to  reduce  the  question  to  its  several  hypotheses,  and  then 
accept  the  one  which  gives  the  fullest  and  most  satisfactory  ac- 
count oTthe  phenomena  we  have  to  explain. 

That  all  men  practically  do,  and  must  believe  in  some  objective 
reality,  presenting  the  phenomena  of  matter,  is  certain ; to  deny 
this  would  be  only  to  controvert  one  fundamental  idea  by  argu- 
ments drawn  from  another ; in  other  words,  to  admit  that  our  in- 
tellectual nature  is  in  conflict  with  itself ; so  that  one  primitive 
dictate  of  our  consciousness  being  falsified,  there  could  be  no  shel- 
ter from  a sweeping  scepticism  when  directed  against  the  rest. 

To  pursue  any  lengthened  reflections,  however,  upon  Berkeley’s 
idealism — a theory  that  is  so  well  known,  and  that  has  been  so 
thoroughly  investigated  in  the  writings  of  the  Scotch  metaphy- 
sicians— is  quite  unnecessary ; we  only  request  our  readers  to 
mark  it  as  the  climax  of  English  polemical  idealism,  denying,  as  it 
does  altogether,  one  of  the  three  fundamental  conceptions  of  the 
human  reason,  and  standing  forth  a lasting  evidence  of  the  neces- 
sity laid  upon  us  to  search  deeply  into  the  primary  elements  of  oui 
knowledge,  lest  we  should  build  up  our  system  upon  a partial,  anc 
consequently  a false  foundation.* 

From  the  death  of  Berkeley  down  to  the  present  century,  th* 
rationalistic  method  of  philosophizing  well  nigh  lay  dormant  in  thi< 
country ; or  if  it  did  sometimes  give  some  slight  symptoms  of  & 
revival,  they  for  the  most  part  only  appeared  in  a form  too  little 
imposing  to  carry  any  weight  or  attract  much  attention.  Almost 
the  only  writer  of  this  school  whose  works  are  likely  to  form  a part 
of  our  standard  philosophy,  is  Dr.  Richard  Price.  The  whole 
spirit,  which  this  most  acute  and  profound  philosopher  manifested 
in  his  Ethical  Disquisitions,  was  decidedly  rationalistic  ; indeed,  so 
extensive  did  he  make  the  peculiar  province  of  reason  in  the  whole 
economy  of  man,  that  he  considered  it  possible,  not  only  for  all  our 


* Another  idealist  of  the  same  age  as  Berkeley,  whose  writings  are  less  known,  was 
Arthur  Collier.  His  work,  entitled  “ Clavis  Universalia,  being  a Demonstration  of  the 
Non-Existence  or  Impossibility  of  an  External  World,”  was  rescued  from  oblivion  and 
re-edited  by  Dr.  Parr;  and  has  recently  been  published,  with  some  other  articles,  in  a 
volume  called  “ Metaphysical  Tracts  by  English  Philosophers  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century.”  (Lumley,  1837.)  Collier  appears  to  have  been  a solitary  thinker,  little 
acquainted  with  what  was  passing  in  the  philosophical  world.  He  was  acquainted 
with  Malebranche,  and  probably  a personal  friend  of  Norris.  But  he  never  quotes 
Locke,  nor  seems  to  have  heard  that  Berkeley,  a few  years  previously,  had  employed 
the  same  arguments  with  himself,  and  drawn  the  same  conclusions. 


144 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


moral  feelings,  but  for  all  our  emotions  of  every  kind,  to  be  ulti- 
mately traced  to  it  as  their  source.  In  his  controversy  with  Priest- 
ley particularly,  he  showed  how  strongly  he  viewed  the  philosoph- 
ical aberration  of  the  age,  and  how  earnestly  he  desired  to  place 
moral  and  metaphysical  truth  upon  its  deeper  and  truer  founda- 
tion.* 

We  ought  not  either  to  omit  the  mention  of  Mr.  James  Harris, 
the  learned  and  accomplished  author  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
specimens  of  metaphysical  analysis  on  the  theory  of  Language, 
which  exist  in  our  language — I mean  the  work  entitled  “ Hermes.” 
Many  are  the  passages  which  might  be  quoted  from  this  author,  in 
which  he  not  only  disavows  the  doctrines  of  sensationalism,  but 
points  out  the  very  error  in  which  Locke  was  so  deeply  involved 
in  many  parts  of  his  analysis.  Take  the  following  passage  as  a 
specimen.  “Though  sensible  objects,”  he  remarks,  “ may  be  the 
destined  medium  to  awaken  the  dormant  energies  of  the  under- 
standing, yet  are  the  energies  themselves  no  more  contained  in 
sense  than  the  explosion  of  a cannon  in  the  spark  that  gave  it 

fire.”t 

With  these  and  a few  other  very  slight  exceptions,  the  philos- 
ophy of  Locke  may  be  considered  to  have  reigned  supreme  during 
the  whole  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  to  have  drawn  in  its  train 
all  the  chief  metaphysical  thinkers  (of  whom  we  may  cite  Abra- 
ham Tucker  as  a fair  specimen)  to  which  that  age  gave  origin. 
Dr.  Price  died  nine  years  before  the  commencement  of  the  pres- 
ent century,  so  that  his  name  brings  us  almost  to  the  borders  of 
the  period,  at  which  the  historical  sketch  allotted  to  this  chapter 
is  to  cease,  and  reminds  us  that  we  have  to  return  to  the  conti- 
nent of  Europe,  in  order  to  seek  the  first  elements  of  that  all-em- 
bracing idealism,  for  which  Germany  has  now  become  celebrated 
throughout  the  world 


* Price  was  a Presbyterian  divine  (born  1723,  and  died  1791,)  of  the  highest  philo- 
sophical abilities.  His  work  against  Priestley  is  entitled  “ Letters  on  Materialism  and 
Philosophical  Necessity,”  (1778.)  In  his  “ Review  of  the  Principal  Questions  in 
Morals,”  the  second  section  of  the  first  chapter  is  occupied  with  a general  view  of  the 
question  respecting  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  in  which  he  controverts,  with  great  ability, 
the  doctrine  of  Locke’s  Essay,  and  shows  that  “ the  power  which  understands,  or  the 
faculty  within  us  that  discerns  truth,  and  that  compares  all  the  objects  of  thought  and 
judges  of  them,  is  a new  spring  nf  ideas.” — P.  Ui. 

t The  first  edition  of  the  “Hermes”  was  published  in  1751.  A second  edition, 
revised  and  corrected  by  the  author,  appeared  in  1765.  The  antisensational  views  of 
the  author  appear  particularly  in  the  third  book,  and  in  the  notes  at  the  end  of  the 
volume. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


145 


Sect.  III. — Third  Movement — German  Idealism. 

We  now  come  to  a country  in  which  Idealism  may  be  said  to 
be  indigenous,  and  where  it  has  long  borne  its  maturest  fruits. 
The  real  source  of  the  German  idealism  must  be  sought  in  the 
peculiar  construction  of  the  German  mind ; as  this,  however,  is  a 
point  into  which  we  have  no  right  at  present  to  enter,  what  we 
shall  now  attempt  is  simply  to  show  the  circumstances,  by  which 
this  philosophy  was  first  called  forth,  and  to  trace  its  movements 
up  to  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  great  era  in  the  philosophical  history  of  Germany,  from 
which  all  its  subsequent  speculations  may  be  said  to  have  flowed, 
was  formed  by  the  life  and  writings  of  Leibnitz.*  Although  we| 
possess  no  systematic  development  of  his  opinions,  (since  he  was 
too  much  mingled  up  with  all  the  learning  of  Europe  to  devote 
himself  closely  to  the  expansion  of  any  one  particular  branch,)  yet 
it  is  not  difficult  to  trace  in  the  occasional,  and  what  we  may  al- 
most term  fugitive  productions  of  that  vast  and  all-comprehending 
mind,  the  fruitful  germs  of  those  philosophical  principles,  which 
occupy  so  prominent  a place  in  the  metaphysical  speculations  of 
the  present  age.  The  mind  of  Leibnitz  was  cast  in  a gigantic 
mould,  and  formed  by  nature  to  tower  above  the  rest  of  the  world 
around  him.  By  virtue  of  this  it  was,  that,  like  all  great  minds,,  he 
cast  his  shadow  before  him,  and  gave  more  pregnant  suggestions 
in  some  of  his  cursory  writings,  than  most  other  men  could  do  in 
the  combined  and  systematic  labor  of  their  whole  life. 

One  great  advantage  which  Leibnitz  possessed  was,  that  he 
entered  upon  the  study  of  philosophy  just  at  the  time  when  he 
could  not  only  see  the  ultimate  tendency  of  the  Cartesian  princi- 
ples, as  shown  by  Malebranche  and  Spinoza,  but  could  also  com- 
pare with  them  the  vigorous  efforts  which  Locke  had  made  in  the 
opposite  direction.  His  mind  was  thus  nurtured  and  expanded  in 
the  very  heat  of  the  controversy ; and  feeling  assured  as  he  did 
that  truth  and  error  existed  on  both  sides,  he  came  forward  as  the 
mediator  between  the  contending  parties,  proposing  to  show, 
where  on  either  hand  mistaken  principles  had  been  advocated, 
and  how  the  controversy  might  terminate  in  the  discovery  of  the 

* A handsome  edition  of  all  Leibnitz’.s  works,  in  one  volume,  has  recently  appeared 
in  Germany.  There  is  also  a Paris  edition  (1844)  of  his  philosophical  writings  in  two 
volumes,  with  an  introduction  by  M.  Jacques.  From  this  edition  the  following  quota- 
tions are  taken. 


10 


146 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


truth.  It  will  greatly  facilitate,  therefore,  our  estimate  of  this  phi- 
losophy, if  we  first  of  all  exhibit  the  chief  points  in  which  Leibnitz 
diflered  from  Locke  on  the  one  hand,  and  Descartes  on  the  other, 
and  thus  define  the  position  which  he  assumed  between  them  both. 

This  position  may  be  easily  determined.  In  opposition  to  the 
former,  Leibnitz  wrote  a work  entitled  “ Nouveaux  Essais  sur 
I’Entendernent  Humain,”  the  chief  object  of  which  was,  to  contro- 
vert Locke’s  view  respecting  innate  ideas,  and  to  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  a principle  of  human  knowledge,  independent  of  and  su- 
perior to  that  which  is  afforded  by  the  senses.  In  doing  this,  he 
by  no  means  ran  into  the  opposite  extreme,  which  was  held  by  the 
Cartesians,  perceiving  as  he  did  most  clearly  that  their  doctrine  of 
innate  ideas  was  altogether  untenable,  and  that  it  had  been  ex- 
ploded indeed  by  the  English  philosopher ; but  while  he  avoided 
this  error  on  the  one  side,  he  succeeded  in  seizing  upon  the  very 
point  in  which  Locke  on  the  other  side  was  most  vulnerable. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  understanding,  says  Locke,  which  did  not 
first  pass  through  the  senses,  according  to  the  old  axiom — “ nil  est 
in  intellectu  quod  non  fuit  prius  in  sensu.”  True,  replies  Leibnitz, 
but  there  is  the  understanding  itself,  there  is  the  innate  faculty  of 
forming  ideas,  which  was  altogether  overlooked  by  Locke  in  his 
reasoning,  and  which  stands  quite  independent  of  sensation.* 
From  the  one  consideration,  then,  that  the  understanding  itself  is 
innate,  though  our  ideas  are  not,  he  goes  on  to  reason,  that  there 
are,  both  in  mathematics  and  in  philosophy,  necessary  truths 
whose  certainty  does  not  spring  from  experience,  but  which  have 
their  foundation  originally  in  the  thinking  soul.  These  truths  he 
regarded  as  the  primary  sources  or  elements  of  human  knowl- 
edge ; so  that  his  starting-point  in  philosophy  was  not,  as  with 
Locke,  the  simple  unresolvable  product  of  the  sensational  faculty, 
but  the  simple  unresolvable  product  of  the  understanding.  While 
Locke,  therefore,  grounded  everything  ultimately  upon  experience, 
and  thus  formed  a system  of  empiricism,  Leibnitz  took  as  his 
groundwork  the  necessary  laws  of  the  understanding,  and  conse- 
quently gave  rise  to  a system  of  philosophical  rationalism. f 


* Book  II.  chap.  i. 

f The  “ Nouveaux  Essais”  are  written  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  probably  after  the 
model  of  Plato,  with  whom  Leibnitz  professes  great  sympathy  at  the  commencement 
of  the  volume.  There  is  first  of  all  an  introduction,  in  which  the  general  distinction 
between  his  own  views  and  those  of  Locke  is  pointed  out.  After  that  the  chapters  run 
parallel  with  Locke’s  Essay  throughout,  a seyiaratc  consideration  being  aftbrded  to 
each.  The  principal  points  of  the  argument  on  innate  ideas  are  stated  in  the  first  book 
and  the  beginning  of  the  second. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


147 


Far,  however,  as  the  philosophy  of  Leibnitz  differed  from  that 
of  our  great  English  metaphysician,  it  stood  almost  at  an  equal 
distance  from  that  of  Descartes.  It  will  perhaps  be  remembered, 
that  the  tendency  of  Cartesianism  from  the  very  first  was  to  place 
in  undue  prominence  the  idea  of  the  infinite  or  absolute,  and  to 
cast  proportionally  into  the  shade  those  of  finite  nature  and  finite 
self.  Malebranche  went  so  far  as  to  deny  secondary  causes  alto- 
gether, thus  confining  all  real  activity  to  the  Supreme  Being ; 
while  Spinoza  completely  absorbed  all  finite  existence  in  the  infi- 
nite, and  made  everything  that  is,  but  a part  and  a modification 
of  the  one  unchangeable  substance.  Leibnitz  observing  that  the 
inevitable  tendency  of  these  principles  was  entirely  to  destroy  the 
idea  of  Cause,  to  banish  all  activity  from  the  universe  of  created 
things,  and  make  all  phenomena  but  modes  of  the  one  infinite  and 
unalterable  existence,  saw  that  he  must  go  back,  and  reconsider 
the  very  notion  of  substance  itself,  if  he  would  discover  the  source 
of  the  error,  and  successfully  counteract  it.  The  great  aim  of  his 
philosophy,  therefore,  was  to  demonstrate,  that  all  substance  is 
necessarily  active.  In  this  way  he  thought  to  vindicate  for  the 
notion  of  causality,  which  the  Cartesians  had  well  nigh  lost  sight 
of,  its  legitimate  influence.  “ The  capital  error  of  the  Cartesians,” 
he  remarks,  “ is,  that  they  have  placed  the  whole  essence  of  matter 
in  extension  and  impenetrability,  imagining  that  bodies  can  be  in 
absolute  repose  : we  shall  show  that  one  substance  cannot  receive 
from  any  other  the  power  of  acting,  but  that  the  whole  force  is 
pre-existent  in  itself.”  This  is  in  fact  the  key  to  the  whole  of 
Leibnitz’s  metaphysics,  and  from  this  one  doctrine,  as  we  shall 
see,  originates  every  peculiarity  by  which  his  system  has  been 
distinguished.* 

As  the  system  of  Leibnitz  is  of  importance,  not  so  much,  indeed, 

* Leibnitz  is  to  be  considered  as  belonging  strictly  to  the  Cartesian  school,  although 
he  swerved  from  many  of  its  tenets.  His  method  is  fundamentally  the  very  same. 
Like  Descartes,  he  asserted  the  inadequacy  of  all  ideas  derived  from  sensation — like 
him,  he  advocated  a source  of  truth  in  the  human  consciousness — like  him,  he  sought 
for  the  criteria  of  truth  in  the  subjective  nature  of  ideas  themselves — like  him,  ho 
regarded  the  process  of  philosophical  investigation  under  the  deductive  or  geometrical 
form.  It  was  the  clear  insight  which  Leibnitz  had  into  the  insufficiency  of  the  Carte- 
sian idea  of  substance,  that  led  to  his  divergence  from  that  school.  Substance  being 
regarded  by  the  Cartesians  as  a fixed  reality,  as  the  absolute,  philosophy  was  reduced 
to  a kind  of  geometrical  process,  that  sought  to  discover  all  the  possible  modi  it  might 
assume.  Leibnitz,  warned  by  the  results  of  Spinozism,  reasoned  through  the  rigid  idea 
of  extension  and  impenetrability,  up  to  that  oi  force;  and  by  introducing  this  notion, 
brought  the  study  of  nature  to  the  form  of  dynamics,  instead  of  leaving  it  in  the  form 
of  abstract  geometry.  The  clearest  statements  of  Leibnitz’s  views  are  to  be  found  in 
his  fragments  on  “ Monadology,”  on  Nature  in  Herself,”  and  his  “ New  System  of 
Nature,”  all  of  which,  with  some  other  letters  on  the  same  subject,  are  in  the  Paris 
edition  above  quoted. 


148 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


on  its  own  account,  as  on  account  of  its  ulterior  results,  we  shall 
endeavor  to  give  as  clear  a view  of  its  principal  features  as  is 
compatible  with  the  brevity  at  which,  in  the  whole  of  this  histor- 
ical sketch,  we  are  aiming.  He  set  out,  then,  as  we  have  just 
seen,  from  the  necessary  laws  of  the  human  understanding,  and 
maintained  that  all  philosophical  truth  must  arise  from  the  analysis 
of  the  primary  ideas  which  they  involve.  To  begin  with  the 
notions  we  derive  through  the  senses,  would  be  to  base  our  whole 
system  upon  ideas  totally  confused  and  inadequate.  The  only 
ideas  which  are  adequate  to  the  full  expression  of  the  objective 
reality  to  which  they  answer,  are  the  pure  a priori  conceptions  of 
the  reason.  But,  then,  how  are  we  to  distinguish  these  ideas  from 
others,  and  what  criteria  can  we  apply,  so  as  to  separate  the  true 
from  the  false  ? The  Cartesian  criteria,  those  of  clearness  and  dis- 
tinctness, he  considered  to  be  imperfect,  and  proposed  in  their 
stead  the  principle  of  identity  and  contradiction  as  the  criterion  in 
necessary  matter,  and  the  principle  pf  sufficient  reason  in  contin- 
gent matter.  By  the  first  of  these  principles  we  are  to  test  all 
those  ideas  which  arise  from  the  necessary  laws  of  thought,  such 
as  the  abstract  conceptions  of  pure  mathematics  ; ideas  which,  to 
be  false,  must  contradict  our  reason  itself,  and  which,  to  be  ab- 
solutely true,  need  only  to  bear  upon  them  the  single  stamp  of  pos- 
sibility. This  principle  of  identity,  continues  Leibnitz,  can  serve 
for  the  criterion  of  the  true  (that  is,  of  what  is  absolutely  and 
necessarily  true),  but  it  cannot  lead  us  to  the  actual  or  the  real. 
To  discover  what  ideas  are  valid,  respecting  the  world  of  contin- 
gent existence,  we  must  have  recourse  to  the  principle  of  sufficient 
reason  ; that  is,  we  must  see  what  has  the  most  perfect  adaptation 
to  bring  about  the  best  results,  and  then  judge  of  everything  by  its 
final  cause.*  So  far  respecting  the  criteria  of  truth  : next  he  pro- 
ceeds to  the  consideration  of  things  themselves. 

Descartes  and  his  school  had  made  matter  to  consist  essentially 
in  extension.  Now,  mere  extension  would  give  a world  of  fixed 
and  unalterable  existence  ; it  would  be  nature  reduced  to  geomet- 
rical terms.  But  this,  said  Leibnitz  is  not  the  tnie  idea  of  nature. 
A thousand  phenomena  are  passing  around  us,  a perpetual  series 
of  movements  and  developments  take  place ; and  how  are  we  to 
account  for  all  these  ? Extension  alone  does  not  explain  them ; 
there  must  be  some  other  fundamental  attribute  of  substance,  from 
which  these  phenomena  take  their  rise.  In  fact,  unless  we  choose 
♦ See  his  “ Monadology,”  p.  397,  et  seq. 


f. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


149 


to  admit  that  every  movement  in  nature  is  the  direct  product  of 
the  divine  mind,  we  must  attribute  to  all  Substance  an  inherent 
power,  by  which  the  phenomena  of  motion  are  generated. 

But,  then,  where  does  this  inherent  power  reside  ? It  cannot 
reside  in  masses,  as  such,  for  every  essential  attribute  is  indepen 
dent  of  all  such  combinations.  Masses  are  infinitely  divisible ; 
the  limit  to  which  even  material  substance  tends,  as  far  as  exten- 
sion is  concerned,  is  zero.  Every  material  property,  strictly  so 
called,  vanishes  ; and  we  come  at  last  to  the  simple  and  immaterial 
idea  of  power,  as  the  essential  basis  of  all  existence.  The  simple 
idea  of  a force,  Leibnitz  terms  a monad;  and,  consequently,  in- 
stead of  an  atomic  theory  of  the  universe,  we  have  a system  of 
monadology,  based  upon  the  fundamental  conception  of  dynamics.* 

The  monad  being  indivisible,  unextended,  immaterial,  cannot  be 
exposed  to  any  influences  from  without ; being  indissoluble,  it  can 
never  perish.  Nevertheless,  in  all  monads  changes  do  perpetually 
take  place,  of  which  we  are  perfectly  cognizant,  and  for  which  we 
must  assign  some  sufficient  cause.  The  cause,  then,  not  being  ex- 
ternal, must  be  internal : that  is,  all  monads  must  contain  an  in- 
ward energy,  hy  virtue  of  which  they  develop  themselves  spon- 
taneously. 

We  must  not  suppose,  however,  that  all  these  monads  are  alike ; 
this  would  imply  a contradiction,  since  no  two  things  can  exist, 
which  are  in  every  respect  the  same,  without  coinciding  with  each 
other,  and  destroying  their  respective  identity.f  Each  monad, 
therefore,  has  its  own  inward  attributes,  according  to  which  its 
being  is  developed.  Some  are  in  a state  of  stupor,  as  those  which 
compose  material  objects,  possessing,  it  is  true,  an  undeveloped 
power  of  perception,  but  manifesting  only  what  are  termed  physical 
qualities  ; while  others  are  raised  to  a complete  state  of  apper- 
ception or  consciousness,  forming  the  souls  of  men  when  that 
consciousness  is  clear  and  distinct,  but  the  souls  of  animals  when 
it  is  indistinct.  God  is  the  absolute,  the  original  monad,  from 
which  all  the  rest  have  their  origin,  and  the  existence  of  whom  we 
are  necessitated  by  the  very  laws  of  our  being  to  admit.  These 
monads,  although  they  have  a general  connection  in  the  whole 
economy  of  the  universe,  yet  have  no  direct  and  individual  influ- 
^ ence  upon  one  another  ; on  the  contrary,  they  all  contain  within 
them  the  means  of  their  own  development,  and  each  one  in  itself 

* See  the  Opuscula  before  mentioned,  passim. 

f This  is  the  principle  of  the  identity  of  indiscernibles,  which  Leibnitz  raised  to  the 
dignity  of  an  axiomatic  truth.  See  “ Letters  to  Clarke,”  p.  432. 


1 


150 


MODEIIN  PHILOSOPHY. 


is  a microcosm  comprehending  a living  image  of  the  whole 
universe. 

This  brings  us  to  another  doctrine  of  Leibnitz’s  philosophy, 
namely,  that  of  pre-established  harmony.  The  dualism  of  Des- 
cartes was  now,  by  the  system  of  monadology,  rendered  unneces- 
(sary,  since  mind  and  matter  were  reduced  to  the  same  essence — 
the  former  being  represented  by  conscious,  and  the  latter  by  un- 
conscious monads.  The  principle  had  long  been  acknowledged  by 
philosophers,  that  two  substances  entirely  differing  from  each  other, 
can  have  no  mutual  influence  whatever.  But  the  monads  which 
compose  material  objects,  differ,  toto  genere,  from  the  higher  order 
. of  monad,  which  we  term  mind.  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  mind 
and  matter  can  have  no  influence  upon  one  another,  but  each  must 
contain  the  laws  of  its  own  development,  and  fulfil  its  own  purposes, 
independently  of  the  other.  To  explain  the  ground  on  which  this 
could  take  place,  Leibnitz  had  recourse  to  the  original  constitution 
of  things  as  perfected  by  God  himself ; who,  he  maintained,  has  so 
harmonised  all  the  monads  of  which  the  universe  consists,  that  they 
shall  work  in  complete  unison,  and  bring  out  at  last  the  great  end 
for  which  they  were  intended.  This  harmony  is  pre-established, 
that  is  to  say,  God  has  concerted  it  beforehand,  and  constituted  it 
by  a unique  decree  ; all  things  therefore  are  pre-formed,  and  God, 
who  has  brought  them  into  existence,  has  read  in  them  from  all 
eternity  the  whole  series  of  their  movements,  their  modifications, 
their  actions.  In  all  and  in  each  everything  is  produced  by  virtue 
of  their  original  nature,  which  the  will  of  God  from  being  possible, 
has  rendered  actual.  Hence  the  harmony  between  all  the  parts 
of  matter  ; between  the  future  and  the  past ; between  the  decrees 
of  God  and  our  foreseen  actions  ; between  nature  and  grace  ; be- 
tween the  reign  of  efficient  and  final  causes.* 

From  these  principles  very  naturally  flowed  the  system  of  op- 
timism, which  Leibnitz  has  supported  with  great  ingenuity  in  his 
work,  entitled  “ Theodicee,”  and  according  to  which  he  shows  that 
God  has  brought  into  actual  being  the  best  possible  order  of  things. 
Hence,  again,  his  theory  of  metaphysical  evil,  as  consisting  simply 
in  limitation;  or  physical  evil,  as  the  result  of  this  limitation ; and  of 
moral  evil,  as  being  permitted  for  the  sake  of  a greater  ultimate 
good.  Hence,  lastly,  his  support  of  the  doctrine  of  philosophical 
necessity,  as  being  the  only  kind  of  liberty  which  is  consistent  with 
the  pre-established  order  of  the  universe.  In  the  view,  therefore, 

* See  M.  Jaques’  Introduction,  p.  43. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


151 


which  Leibnitz  took  of  the  innate  faculties  of  the  human  mind,  as 
opposed  to  the  empiricism  of  Locke  ; in  his  dynamical  theory  of 
matter,  making  it  ultimately  homogeneous  with  spirit ; in  his  denial 
of  the  mutual  influence  of  the  soul  and  the  body,  thus  destroying, 
to  say  the  least,  the  necessity  of  the  latter  in  accounting  for  our 
mental  phenomena,  and  in  his  theory  of  a universal  pre-established 
harmony ; in  all  this  we  see  the  fruitful  seeds  of  idealism,  which  only 
needed  to  be  cast  into  a congenial  soil,  to  expand  into  a complete  and 
imposing  system.  Such  a soil  Germany  aflbrded,  and  such  a system 
has  now  long  ceased  to  be  a novelty  in  the  philosophical  world.* 

The  effect  which  the  writings  of  Leibnitz  produced  was  felt 
more  or  less  throughout  Europe,  but  especially  in  his  own  country. 
In  Germany  he  soon  numbered  many  partisans  and  many  opponents, 
and  the  disputes  which  were  thus  originated  upon  some  of  the  most 
fundamental  principles  of  philosophy,  (giving,  as  they  did,  so  great 
a spur  to  the  cultivation  of  metaphysical  literature,)  laid  the  basis 
for  the  future  eminence  which  it  there  attained.  There  was  one 
thing,  however,  which  considerably  impeded  the  progress  of  Leib- 
nitz’s philosophy,  namely,  its  want  of  a clear,  logical,  and  connected 
form.  This  deficiency  was  supplied  by  Christian  Wolf,  who,  about 
the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century,  came  forth  as  one 
of  his  professed  disciples. 

With  but  little  depth  and  originality.  Wolf  possessed  a clear 
methodical  mind,  considerable  power  of  analysis,  and  an  almost 
incredible  industry,  by  means  of  which  qualifications  he  brought 
the  principles  of  his  master,  left  scattered  throughout  his  miscella- 
neous writings,  into  a complete  systematic  form.  The  doctrine  of 
monads,  however  as  propounded  by  Leibnitz,  he  considerably 
modified,  rejecting  altogether  the  idea,  that  the  lower  order  of 
monads  have  any  undeveloped  power  of  perception,  and  making 
thus  a very  decided  difference  between  matter  and  mind  in  their 
real  essence.  Moreover,  instead  of  viewing  the  theory  of  pre- 
established  harmony  in  its  universal  bearings,  he  confined  it  to 
the  mutual  influence  of  the  soul  and  the  body  ;f  but,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  these  alterations,  he  contented  himself  with  methodizing 
the  philosophy  of  which  he  professed  to  be  a disciple,  by  the  strict 

* The  Theodicee  is  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  monument  of  Leibnitz’s  genius. 
It  is  here  that  he  elucidates  the  question  of  the  relation  between  philosophy  and  faith  ; 
here  that  he  grapples  with  the  great  problems  respecting  the  eternal  goodness  of  God, 
the  liberty  of  man,  and  the  origin  of  evil,  Modern  literature,  we  believe,  contains  no 
work  in  which  there  is  such  a remarkable  combination  of  metaphysical  genius  and 
universal  erudition. 

■j"  Tennemann’s  “ Grundriss,”  p.  425. 


152 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


application  of  mathemalical  forms ; and  having  done  this,  he  offered 
to  the  world  for  the  first  time  a complete  encyclopcBdia  of  philo- 
sophical science. 

As  the  division  of  Wolf  has  been  much  followed,  it  may  be  use- 
ful to  indicate  its  nature.  The  whole  province  of  philosophy  he 
divides  into  two  parts,  theoretical  and  practical.  The  former  con- 
tains logic,  properly  so  called,  and  metaphysics  ; metaphysics  being 
again  subsidivided  into  ontology,  psychology,  cosmology,  and  natu- 
ral theology.  The  practical  side  contains — first,  ethics,  as  the  foun- 
dation of  moral  distinctions  ; next,  the  law  of  nature,  and  thirdly, 
politics.  The  philosophy  of  Wolf,  by  virtue  of  its  order  and  com- 
pleteness, obtained  great  approval,  and  found  its  way  into  most  of 
the  German  universities,  where,  for  the  former  half  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  it  held  the  pre-eminence  over  all  other  systems. 

Notwithstanding  this,  however,  it  possessed  inherent  faults,  and 
contained  the  sure  seeds  of  a rapid  decay.  The  errors  of  the 
Leibnitzian-Wolfian  school  are  summed  up  by  Tennemann  in  one 
comprehensive  sentence,  which  I shall  quote,  as  being  the  judg- 
ment of  a man  most  competent  to  give  it.  “ These  errors  Con- 
sist,” he  says,  “ in  the  fact  that  Wolf  assumed  bare  thinking  as  his 
starting  point,  overlooked  the  difference  between  the  formal  and 
the  material  conditions  of  thought,  considered  philosophy  as  the 
science  of  the  possible,  in  so  far  as  it  is  possible,  made  the  princi- 
ple of  contradiction  the  highest  principle  of  human  knowledge, 
placed  mere  ideas  and  verbal  definitions  at  the  very  head  of  all 
research,  made  no  difference  between  rational  and  experimental 
knowledge,  and,  though  following  the  geometrical  method,  neglect- 
ed to  distinguish  that  which  is  peculiar  to  mathematics  on  the  one 
hand,  and  philosophy  on  the  other,  both  in  their  form  and  their 
matter.”*  That  such  a philosophy  must  necessarily  tend  to  a 
system  of  formal  dogmatism,  is  a thing  at  once  self-evident ; it 
was,  in  fact,  the  empty  pedantry  which  as  such  it  assumed,  that 
laid  the  foundation  for  its  overthrow  after  half  a century’s  brilliant 
success. 

There  were  several  minor  causes  that  concurred  to  hasten  the 
downfall  of  the  Wolfian  metaphysics.  One  of  the  principal  of 
these  was  the  introduction  of  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  chiefly 
through  the  influence  of  the  French  literati  who  frequented  the 
court  of  Frederick  the  Great — a philosophy  which  presented  a 
highly  favorable  contrast  to  the  empty  definitions  and  verbal  ab- 

* Tennemann’s  “ Grundriss,”  p.  435-6. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


153 


stractions  by  which  the  Wolfian  system  was  characterized.  The 
popularity  which  was  aimed  at  by  these  disciples  of  the  English 
philosopher  greatly  aided  the  propagation  of  their  principles,  and 
there  arose  from  the  struggles  of  the  two  systems  a species  of 
eclecticism,  which,  while  it  hovered  between  the  different  schools 
mingling  together  often  the  most  discordant  elements,  favored  a 
shallow  and  flimsy  elegance  rather  than  a scientific  depth  and  ac- 
curacy. In  the  midst  of  this  confusion,  scepticism,  as  might  be 
expected,  also  made  its  appearance  ; and  the  celebrated  divine 
M.  de  Beausobre,  whom  we  may  regard  as  its  best  representative, 
wrote  an  ingenious  work,  in  which  he  advocated  almost  an  undis- 
guised Pyrrhonism,  and  made  the  Wolfian  philosophy  an  especial 
object  of  his  attack  and  ridicule.  It  was  just  at  this  time,  while 
dogmatism,  eclecticism,  and  scepticism  were  thus  mingling  all 
philosophical  principles  together  in  confusion,  and  beginning  to 
render  the  whole  science  an  object  of  contempt,  that  one  of  the 
greatest  thinkers  which  any  age  ever  produced  came  forward, 
boldly  essaying  to  introduce  a new  spirit  into  the  degenerate  phi- 
osophy  of  his  day,  and  to  place  upon  an  entirely  new  ground  the 
whole  method  of  metaphysical  investigation.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that  I refer  to  Immanuel  Kant,  the  great  author  of  the  “ Critical 
Philosophy.” 

In  giving  an  account  of  the  labors  of  Kant,  I have  had  some 
difficulty  to  determine  whether  I should  employ  his  strange  uncouth 
phraseology,  and  endeavor  to  explain  it  by  defining  the  terms  as 
they  occur,  or  whether  I should  endeavor  to  strip  the  thoughts  of 
their  ungainly  dress,  and  present  them  to  the  reader  in  a more  sim- 
ple and  intelligible  form.  The  latter  mode  appears  to  me,  upon  the 
whole,  more  suited  to  a brief  sketch  like  the  present ; and  to  assist 
the  reader  who  may  wish  to  pursue  his  investigations  further,  I 
shall  indicate  parenthetically  here  and  there  the  Kantian  expression 
for  some  of  the  more  important  ideas.* 

It  is  a fact  worthy  of  observation,  that  Kant,  although  he  came 
from  the  Leibnitzian- Wolfian  school,  yet  started  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple, and  with  the  same  object  before  him,  as  Locke  did.  Locke’s 
avowed  purpose  was  to  investigate  the  powers  and  limits  of  thej 
human  understanding ; the  purpose  of  the  Critical  philosophy,  asl 
its  name  imports,  was  substantially  the  very  same,  that  is,  to  search 

* A translation  of  the  “ Kritik  reiner  Vernunft,”  tolerably  complete,  was  publishea 
in  1838,  (London,  W.  Pickering,)  which  edition  we  shall  quote  in  the  following  paaes 
on  Kant.  The  English  reader  who  wishes  to  look  further  into  that  extraordinary 
production,  will  thus  be  able  to  follow  our  remarks,  and  verify  them  without  difficulty. 


154 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


into  the  true  origin  of  our  ideas,  and  to  define  the  proper  bounda- 
ries of  human  knowledge.  In  a word,  Kant  sought  to  correct  and 
to  complete  whatever  he  considered  deficient  or  mistaken  in 
Locke’s  previous  researches.  Both  these  great  men,  therefore,  on 
one,  and  that  a fundamental  point,  thought  exactly  alike  ; they 
thought,  namely,  that  it  was  worse  than  useless  to  set  up  a deter- 
minate or  dogmatical  system  of  philosophy,  before  the  mind  itself 
was  properly  examined,  its  faculties  criticized,  its  capacities  deter- 
mined, and  the  possibility  of  metaphysical  science  generally  clearly 
proved.  (This  is  termed  by  Kant,  Kritik ; whence  the  term 
critical  philosophy.)* 

To  this  course  Kant  appears  to  have  been  incited  by  the  seep-  I 
tical  writings  of  Hume,  which  he  clearly  saw  would  undermine  the  \ 
whole  mass  of  human  knowledge,  unless  a deeper  and  sounder 
^ foundation  were  laid  for  it,  than  the  empiricism  of  the  sensation- 
alist school  afforded.  To  lay  this  foundation  was  the  direct  object 
of  the  “ Critick  of  Pure  Reason,”  (Kritik  reiner  Vernunft,)  in  which 
Kant’s  speculative  principles  are  fully  developed.  The  nature  of 
this  Critick  is  stated  by  the  author  himself  as  follows  : — “ Reason  is 
the  faculty  which  furnishes  the  principles  of  cognition  (knowing) 
a priori.  Therefore,  pure  reason  is  that  which  contains  the  prin- 
ciples of  knowing  something  absolutely  a priori.  An  organon  of 
pure  reason  would  be  a complex  of  these  principles,  according  to 
which  all  pure  cognitions  a priori  can  be  obtained,  and  really  ac- 
complished. The  extended  application  of  such  an  organon  would 
furnish  a system  of  pure  reason.  As  this,  however,  is  to  demand 
very  much,  and  it  is  j-et  uncertain  whether  in  general  here  an  ex- 
tension of  our  cognition  is  possible,  and  in  what  cases,  we  may, 
therefore,  regard  a science  of  the  mere  investigation  of  pure  reason, 
its  sources  and  bounds,  as  the  Propadeutic  to  a system  of  pure 
Reason.  Such  must  not  be  a doctrine,  but  must  only  be  termed  a 
Critick  of  pure  Reason,  and  its  utility  would,  in  respect  of  specula- 
tion, really  only  be  negative,  serving  not  for  the  augmentation,  but^ 
only  for  the  purifying  of  our  reason,  and  holding  it  free  from 
errors.”! 

What,  then,  is  required  (for  such  is  the  primary  question  to  be 
answered)  in  order  to  come  to  a clear  understanding  respecting 
the  nature  and  certainty  of  our  knowledge  ? That  we  have  a con- 
sciousness, and  that  thoughts,  perceptions,  notions  (whatever  be 

* Sec  “Critick  of  Pure  Reason.”  Introduction,  sections  3 and  7. 

t Crit.  of  Pure  Reas.  Introd.  sec.  7. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


155 


the  name  by  which  we  choose  to  designate  such  phenomena),  exist 
there,  it  were  mere  folly  and  useless  verbiage  to  express  a doubt. 
From  these  phenomena  all  our  knowledge  must  be  derived,  and 
therefore  to  inquire  into  the  elements  and  origin  of  knowledge,  is 
to  inquire  into  the  elements  and  origin  of  the  facts  of  our  con- 
sciousness. Now,  let  us  take  any  ordinary  commonplace  fact, 
such  as  this ; — “ That  picture  was  painted  by  some  clever  artist.” 
What,  we  may  ask,  is  included  in  such  an  assertion  ? First,  we 
have  the  perception  of  the  particular  picture  before  us ; then  we 
have  the  idea  of  some  clever  painter ; and,  lastly,  we  attribute  the 
one  to  the  operation  of  the  other.  But  it  is  clear  that  these  par- 
ticular ideas  rest  upon  general  ones  lying  beneath  them.  Why 
does  the  picture  infallibly  suggest  an  artist — why  do  we  name  him 
clever,  and  on  what  ground  do  we  so  confidently  assert  that  the 
picture  was  painted  by  him  ? Clearly  because  we  must  attribute 
every  effect  to  a cause,  and  to  a cause  that  is  fully  equal  to  its 
production.  In  every  proposition,  therefore,  of  this  nature,  how- 
ever trite  and  commonplace  it  be,  there  are  two  elements — a par- 
ticular and  a general  one.  The  particular  one  gives  the  matter  of 
the  proposition,  the  general  one  gives  the  form ; the  former  is  a 
purely  objective  element,  the  latter  is  as  purely  subjective.  To  dis- 
tinguish these  two  elements  of  experience  still  further,  we  may  try 
to  assign  their  respective  origin.  The  former  of  the  two  evidently 
comes  from  the  world  without ; for  were  the  picture  not  there,  the 
whole  proposition  would  never  have  originated.  The  latter  ele- 
ment as  surely  arises  from  the  constitution  of  the  mind  itself,  when 
incited  to  action  by  the  outward  stimulus.  The  one,  therefore, 
may  be  termed  empirical,  or  a posteriori,  coming  simply  from  ex- 
perience ; the  other  may  be  termed  rational,  or  a priori,  coming  it 
is  true  with  experience,  but  not  from  it. 

These,  then,  being  the  two  elements  of  knowledge,  it  is  of  some 
importance  to  find  the  real  test  by  which  they  are  distinguished 
from  each  other.  Empirical  perceptions  are  contingent,  uncertain, 
fluctuating, — they  may  be  in  the  mind,  or  they  may  not.  Every 
fresh  scene  in  which  we  are  placed  completely  alters  the  sensations, 
and  tho particular  sensational  judgments  of  which  we  are  conscious. 
On  the  contrary,  our  a priori  judgments  are  steady,  abiding,  un- 
alterable ; they  appear  alike  in  all  men,  and  are  infallibly  excited 
by  the  stimulus  of  the  senses  upon  the  mind.  The  criteria,  then, 
of  these  a priori  conceptions,  are  universality  and  necessity ; what- 
ever judgments  are  formed  by  all  men,  and  formed  of  necessity 


156 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


under  similar  circumstances,  we  regard  as  arising  at  once  from  the 
subjective  laws  of  the  human  reason.* 

What  we  require,  therefore,  as  a first  step  to  real  and  absolute 
knowledge,  is  a science  which  shall  investigate  all  these  fixed 
phenomena  of  our  consciousness,  and  by  that  means  seek  to  deter- 
mine the  value  and  extent  of  our  a priori  intuitions.  Upon  the 
possibility,  and  the  validity  of  these,  the  possibility  and  value  of 
scientific  knowledge  must  depend.  If  we  can  attain  no  further 
than  to  the  knowledge  of  particular  and  transient  phenomena,  all 
philosophy  is  out  of  the  question ; the  very  first  condition  of  its 
existence  arises  from  the  possession  of  universal  and  necessary 
ideas,  and  its  only  safe  procedure  is  to  ground  our  conclusions 
upon  an  accurate  critick  of  their  nature  and  significancy.f  We 
must  see,  therefore,  how  it  is  that  Kant  proposes  to  institute  such 
an  investigation. 

If  we  look  closely,  he  tells  us,  at  our  a priori  notions — those 
which  are  distinguished,  as  we  said,  from  mere  empirical  ones  by 
the  double  criteria  of  universality  and  necessity,  we  find  that  they 
are  of  two  different  kinds,  originating  in  two  different  methods 
which  we  possess  of  framing  our  judgments.  First,  a judgment 
may  be  simply  a declaration  of  something  necessarily  belonging  to 
a given  notion,  as,  for  example,  that  every  triangle  has  three  sides. 
(Analytic  judgments.)  In  this  case,  the  predicate  is  declared  of 
the  subject  by  virtue  of  an  identity  in  the  terms  of  the  question ; 
here  to  suppose  the  judgment  not  true  would  imply  an  absolute 
contradiction,  since  that  judgment  is  in  fact  nothing  but  an  analy- 
sis of  the  contents  of  the  notion.  But,  secondly,  a judgment  may 
be  a declaration  of  something  which  does  not  actually  belong  to  a 
notion,  but  which  our  minds  are  led  by  some  kind  of  evidence  or 
other  to  attribute  to  it.  (Synthetic  judgments.)  In  this  case  there 
is  no  identity  between  the  subject  and  the  predicate,  but  the  latter 
expresses  something  respecting  the  former  which,  instead  of  being 
a mere  analysis  of  its  meaning,  indicates  an  actual  increase  of  our 
knowledge  concerning  it,  on  which  account  such  judgments  were 
termed  by  Kant  amplificatory,  as  adding  something  to  our  former 
ideas  on  the  question. 

These  synthetic  judgments  maybe  either  a posteriori  or  a priori 
ones.  Of  the  former  kind  are  all  those  which  rest  upon  our  actual 
experience,  all  those  decisions  in  everyday  life  which  are  made  in 

* On  these  distinctions  consult  Cousin’s  “ Lc9ons  sur  la  Philosophie  de  Kant,”  Le- 
^on  iii. 

f Grit,  of  Pure  Reas.  Introd.  sec.  3. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


157 


pursuance  of  the  evidence  of  our  senses.  If  I say  “ all  men  are 
mortal,”  there  is  no  identity  here  between  the  subject  and  predi- 
cate, but  I attribute  mortality  to  man  because  experience  assures 
me  of  the  fact  being  true.  It  is  with  synthetic  judgments  a priori, 
however,  that  philosophy  has  chiefly  to  do,  and  which  consequently 
require  a more  particular  explanation. 

Let  us  select  an  instance  or  two,  by  way  of  example.  First, 
take  the  proposition.  Every  quality  exists  in  some  substance. 
Here  we  have  a synthetic  judgment,  because  substance  expresses 
something  not  identical  with  quality,  but  it  is  also  a priori,  because 
the  evidence  of  it  is  not  empirical  but  purely  rational.  Again,  to 
take  another  instance,  when  I say  that  every  effect  has  a cause,  I 
merely  attribute  to  an  effect  what  is  implied  in  its  definition,  as  be- 
ing the  latter  of  two  given  events ; in  fact,  I do  nothing  more  than 
analyze  the  notion.  But  when  I say  that  every  effect  implies  the 
notion  of  power,  or  that  every  event  has  an  efficient  cause,  I do 
more  than  analyze  the  expression,  I attribute  altogether  a fresh  no- 
tion to  it,  and  perform  a judgment  by  which  my  knowledge  is  ex- 
tended. Hume’s  notion  of  cause  and  effect,  therefore,  is  simply  an 
analytic  judgment;  it  expresses  only  precedence  and  consequence; 
the  opposed  and  true  notion,  which  implies  power  as  the  connect- 
ing link,  is  a synthetic  judgment. 

Both  analytic  and  synthetic  judgments  a priori  are  found  in  all 
the  pure  sciences,  and  form  indeed  the  very  principles  upon  which 
such  sciences  are  pursued.  The  axioms,  for  instance,  which  stand 
at  the  head  of  mathematical  reasoning  are  all  judgments  of  one  or 
other  of  these  kinds.  • Thus,  when  I say,  that  “ the  whole  is  greater 
than  a part,”  I merely  analyze  the  expressions,  and  add  nothing  to 
my  knowledge  beyond  what  was  already  contained  in  them ; but 
when  I say,  that  “ if  a straight  line  meeting  two  other  straight  lines 
make  the  interior  angles  less  than  two  right  angles,  those  two  lines 
shall  meet  when  produced,”  I add  something  to  my  knowledge  be- 
yond the  mere  definition  of  the  terms  ; and  I feel  perfectly  sure  of 
the  truth,  nay,  the  necessity  of  the  judgment,  though  it  is  perhaps 
impossible  to  afford  any  direct  demonstration  of  it.  Many  other 
synthetic  judgments  of  this  nature  might  be  enumerated,  such  as  the 
following : God  exists, — the  laws  of  nature  are  constant, — all  phe- 
nomena imply  a subject,  &c. ; but  those  which  we  have  adduced, 
we  trust,  are  enough  for  illustration.* 

* On  the  distinction  between  analytic  and  synthetic  judgments,  see  Critick  of  Pure 
Reas.  Introd.  secs.  4,  5. 


158 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Now  the  question  is,  how  do  we  come  to  such  conclusions  as 
tliese,  which  we  feel  to  be  real  and  undoubted  truth,  and  which 
nevertheless  rest  upon  no  demonstration  whatever  ? If  I am  ne- 
cessitated to  admit  them  as  soon  as  they  are  presented  to  me,  it 
must  be  because  the  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it  cannot  think 
otherwise  ; unless  indeed  we  hold  the  Platonic  theory,  that  we  are 
merely  remembering  what  we  had  learned  in  some  former  life. 
Here  then  we  get  to  the  I’eal  problem  that  we  wish  to  see  solved — 
how  are  synthetical  judgments  h priori  possible,  how  do  they  orig- 
inate, and  what  certainty  is  there  in  the  knowledge  which  they 
afford  us  ? This  is  the  fundamental  question  upon  which  the  very 
possibility  of  a true  science  of  metaphysics  rests,  nay,  by  which  the 
validity  of  all  our  necessary  and  universal  ideas  in  every  science  is 
to  be  tried.*  Hume  referred  all  these  judgments  to  experience, 
making  our  ideas  of  causation,  our  confidence  in  the  uniformity  of 
nature,  and  so  forth,  merely  the  effects  of  habit  or  association ; and 
by  that  means  he  struck  at  the  root  of  all  necessary  truth.  Reid 
and  his  school  contravened  the  conclusions  of  Hume  by  bringing 
to  their  help  the  principle  of  “ common  sense,”  and  pointing  out 
certain  indestructible  beliefs,  which  we  must  hold,  and  that  too 
(juite  independently  of  any  experience  whatever.  Kant’s  object 
was  to  look  still  further  into  our  intellectual  being,  and  to  discover 
the  primary  laws  themselves  upon  which  all  these  beliefs  rest. 

In  doing  this,  it  struck  him,  that  philosophers  had  begun  at  the 
wrong  end  in  analyzing  the  human  understanding ; that  they  had 
all  begun,  namely,  by  inquiring  what  are  the  objects  of  our  knowl- 
edge, and  then  had  made  truth  to  consist  in  the  conformity  between 
the  objective  reality  and  the  subjective  state.  May  it  not  be, 
thought  the  great  philosopher,  that  many  of  those  things  which  we 
usually  attribute  to  objective  reality,  are  really  the  effect  of  our 
own  subjective  laws  ? may  it  not  be  that  the  very  qualities  which 
we  refer  to  external  objects  are  infused  into  them  by  the  mind 
itself?  in  brief,  may  not  the  forms  of  thought  which  logic  gives  us 
with  such  an  admirable  precision,  be  the  very  principles  by  which 
the  mind  is  guided  in  obtaining  perceptions  of  external  things,  by 
which  it  moulds  the  crude  material  of  the  senses  into  knowledge, 
and  by  which  it  unites  together  all  our  perceptive  notions  into  a 
complete  system  of  experimental  truth  ? If  this  be  really  the  case, 
thought  Kant,  we  shall  be  able  to  see  much  farther  into  the  con- 
stitution of  the  human  mind  than  was  ever  seen  before,  and  lay  a 

* Critick  of  Pure  Reas.  Introd.  sec.  G. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


159 


much  more  solid  foundation  for  the  certainty  of  human  knowledge, 
than’ had  ever  been  accomplished  by  any  previous  philosophy.  To 
solve  this  problem,  then,  is  the  great  aim  of  Kant’s  united  criticism 
of  the  sensitive  faculty,  the  understanding,  and  the  reason  ; and  by 
this  solution,  he  thought  to  lay  a sure  basis  for  the  whole  super- 
structure of  pure  and  abstract  truth.* 

The  first  thing,  then,  to  be  done  in  this  criticism  was  to  deter- 
mine the  proper  nature  of  the  sensitive  faculty  by  submitting  it  to 
the  scrutiny  of  our  reason,  to  show  what  there  is  empirical  and 
what  abiding  and  unchangeable  in  it  as  the  necessary  condition  of 
all  perception,  and  in  this  way  to  find  out  exactly  what  is  con- 
tributed by  it  to  the  formation  of  our  universal  notions.  (Tran- 
scendental iEsthetic.)f  In  doing  this,  Kant  took  for  granted,  as  a 
thing  lying  altogether  beyond  the  region  of  proof,  the  reality  of  our 
sense-perceptions.  The  capacity  of  our  being  affected  by  the  ob- 
jects of  sense,  just  as  is  the  case  in  Lgck«’s  philosophy,  he  never 
questioned,  but  considered  it  as  a thing  selt-evident,  that  the  mat- 
ter of  our  notions  must  be  furnished  from  sensation,  inasmuch  as 
our  other  and  higher  faculties  are  simply  formal  or  regulative,  and 
therefore  not  adapted  to  supply  the  material  for  any  conception 
whatever. J But  then  the  great  point  to  be  investigated  was  this, 
— what  is  it  in  our  perceptions  on  the  one  hand  that  must  be 
attributed  simply  to  experience,  or  that  comes  from  the  thing  itself; 
and  what,  on  the  other,  that  is  of  a purely  a priori  character  origi- 
nating in  the  necessary  laws  of  our  constitution  ? 

To  find  this  we  must  apply  the  criteria  of  universality  and  ne- 
cessity as  the  true  tests  of  what  is  a priori  in  its  nature ; and  the- 
result  is,  that  there  are  just  two  ideas  which  are  necessarily  and 
universally  attached  to  every  perception,  namely,  time  and  space. 
The  moment  we  experience  any  perception  we  must  place  it  in  a 
given  time,  and  in  a given  space ; so  that  these  two  fundamental 
notions  are  the  necessary  forms  of  all  sensation,  and  pre-exist  in 
the-SQuI_as  the  laws  or  conditions  of  its  very  possibility. § This 

* “ Grit,  of  Pure  Reas.”  preface  to  the  second  edition, 

f In  Transcendental  .Esthetic,  we  shall  first  isolate  sensibility,  so  that  we  separate 
everything  which  the  understanding  by  means  of  its  conceptions  therein  thinks,  so  that 
notlung  but  empirical  intuition  remains.  Secondly,  we  shall  further  separate  from  this 
last,  everything  which  belongs  to  sensation,  so  that  nothing  but  pure  intuition,  and  the 
mere  form  of  phenomena,  may  remain,  which  is  the  only  thing  that  sensibility  can  fur- 
nish a priori.’’’ — See  Grit,  of  Pure  Reas.  Trans.  Esth,  Part  I. 

:j;  “ By  means  of  sensibility,  objects  are  given  to  us,  and  it  alone  furnishes  us  with  in- 
tuitions.”— Trans.  Esth.  Part  I. 

^ In  the  first  and  second  sections  of  the  “ Trans.  Esth.”  Kant  develops  his  theory 
of  space  and  time  at  considerable  length,  answering  objections,  and  drawing  his  con- 
clusions from  it  with  great  distinctness. 


IGO 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


■VT/ 


being  the  case,  every  quality  in  an  object  that  implies  time  and 
space  must  also  be  a priori  and  subjective.  Thus  magnitude,  ex- 
tension, duration,  in  a word,  all  those  which  have  been  considered 
jirimary  qualities  of  matter,  masmuch  as  they  are  hut  different  modi- 
fications of  time  and  space,  are  entirely  subjective,  and  are  only 
attributed  to  objects  by  virtue  of  the  necessar}r  forms  of  our  own 
understanding.  Abstract,  therefore,  from  the  material  world,  all 
these,  its  time-and-space  qualities,  and  the  remainder  alone  is  due 
to  experience, — a remainder  which  includes  nothing  but  the  bare 
fact  of  their  actual  existence.  The  outward  world  thus  stands  to 
us  in  the  same  relation  as  the  little  objects  within  a kaleidoscope  do 
to  the  eye.*  As  we  turn  the  instrument  round,  they  assume  all 
kinds  of  shapes  and  positions,  which  positions,  however,  do  not 
depend  upon  the  objects  that  are  in  it,  but  upon  the  construction 
of  the  glasses  by  which  they  are  reflected.  That  there  are  objects 
actually  present,  is  a truth  that  comes  at  once  from  those  objects 
themselves,  for  without  their  presence  the  kaleidoscope  would  offer 
no  phenomena  at  all  to  our  view ; but  all  the  variations  of  them 
depend  upon  the  instrument  through  which  they  are  seen.  Now 
the  human  understanding,  says  Kant,  is  such  an  instrument ; the 
eye  that*gazes  through  it  is  sensation,  and  the  world  of  phenomena 
consists  of  such  objects.  The  fact  that  they  do  really  exist  comes 
from  themselves,  and  is  known  by  the  direct  intuition  of  the  senses ; 
but  all  the  different  forms  and  aspects  they  assume  are  produced 
by  our  own  subjective  faculties  or  laws  of  thought.  Thus  the  now 
and  the  here  of  an  object  form  the  actual  matter  of  our  perceptions 
as  derived  from  experience,  while  everything  else  connected  with 
it,  everything  that  comes  under  the  idea  of  its  form,  is  purely  sub- 
jective, and  derived  consequently  from  ourselves. 

The  nature  of  the  sensitive  faculty  is  thus  fully  determined.  Its 
province  is  to  give  us  phenomena  as  the  bare,  unshaped,  undeter- 
mined matter  of  our  notions,  and  to  fix  the  two  different  forms 
under  which  that  matter  shall  be  viewed,  namely,  those  of  time 
and  space ; but  whether  the  matter  of  our  notions,  as  thus  per- 
ceived, be  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term  material,  or  whether 
it  be  not,  is  left  by  this  faculty  quite  undetermined.!  The  final 
conclusion,  then,  which  we  are  directed  to  draw  from  this  part  of 
the  criticism  is,  that  we  can  never  penestrate  beyond  phenomena 


* For  this  striking  illustration  I am  indebted  to  Chalybaus  in  his  “ Entwicklung 
Speculativer  Philosophie,”  where  an  admirable  lecture  is  devoted  to  the  philosophy  of 
Kant.  See  Lect.  II. 

f Trans.  jEsth.,  sec  2.  See  Kant’s  “ General  Observations”  at  the  close. 


GERMAN  idealism. 


161 


into  the  real  essential  nature  of  things,  our  knowledge  of  them 
being  relative  to  the  constitution  of  our  own  faculties ; that,  there- 
fore, there  is  no  ontology  possible,  and,  strictly  speaking,  no  meta- 
j-physics.  Moreover,  as  to  our  synthetic  judgments,  a priori,  it  is 
evident  that  they  will  hold  good  within  the  bounds  of  actual  expe- 
rience,  but  that  they  are  by  no  means  applicable  to  those  things 
which  cannot  be  made  objects  of  direct  perception ; for,  were  this  the 
case,  the  sensitive  faculty  would  not  be  the  sole  source  from  whence 
^^the  matter  of  our  knowledge  is  derived.  On  these  grounds,  there- 
fore, we  may  have  a valid  science  of  natural  philosophy,  because 
the  objects  of  it  are  grasped  by  the  senses  ; and  W'e  may  also  have 
a valid  science  of  pure  mathematics,  because  all  the  relations  of 
number  and  space,  about  which  it  is  conversant,  can  be  submitted 
to  the  direct  intuition  of  sense  (e.  g.  by  diagrams),  as  though  they 
were  objective  realities  ; but  on  the  very  same  grounds  it  is  equally 
impossible  to  claim  objective  reality  for  any  purely  metaphysical 
ideas,  lying,  as  they  do,  entirely  beyond  the  boundaries  of  all  our 
experience.* 

Such,  then,  is  the  contribution  which  our  sensitive  faculty  brings 
to  the  attainment  of  real  and  definite  knowledge.  But,  that  we 
may  trace  the  process  further,  we  must  proceed  to  the  considera- 
tion of  a second  and  a higher  faculty,  that  of  understanding,  the 
faculty  to  which  we  have  just  referred,  as  giving  form  and  figure 
to  the  material  furnished  by  sensation.  (Transcendental  Ana- 
lytick.)  Sensation  alone  could  never  frame  a notion,  inasmuch  as 
it  consists  only  of  bare  feelings,  which  are  altogether  passive,  and, 
as  far  as  knowledge  is  concerned,  are  blind  and  dead.  Were  we 
endowed  only  with  this  capacity,  our  minds  would  ever  be  in  a 
chaotic  state,  with  the  elements  of  knowledge  all  mixed  up  there 
in  confusion,  but  not  a single  thought  isolated,  shaped,  and  made 
the  separate  object  of  attention.  The  office,  then,  of  giving  form 
and  distinctness  to  the  material  afforded  by  sensation  is  committed 
to  the  understanding. f (Verstand.) 

Kant  was  led  to  the  consideration  of  the  necessary  forms  of  our 
understanding,  by  the  conclusions  of  Hume  respecting  causation. 
Hume  affirmed  that  our  idea  of  cause  anT^ffect  is  derived  simply 
from  experience,  and,  therefore,  cannot  be  in  its  nature  certain 

* See  “ Conclusion  to  Trans.  .®sth.” 

f See  Transcendental  Logic,  paragraph  1.  “ Intuition  and  conceptions  form  the 
elements  of  all  our  knowing ; so  that  neither  conceptions  without  an  intuition,  in  some 
way  corresponding  to  them,  nor  intuition  without  conceptions,  could  produce  cogni- 
tion.” 

11 


162 


MODERN  PIIILOSOPnY. 


and  invai’iable.  In  opposition  to  this,  Kant  contended  that  it  was 
a universal,  a necessary,  and  an  a priori  notion,  which  could  not 
be  derived  from  experience  at  all,  but  must  be  a fixed  I'elation 
grounded  in  the  very  constitution  of  our  minds,  and  whether  ab- 
solutely true  or  not,  must  be  true  to  man  as  long  as  his  under- 
standing remains  as  it  is. 

Kant  perceived,  however,  that  there  are  other  fixed  relations  in 
the  mind  of  man  besides  that  of  causality ; he  perceived,  for  in- 
stance, that  when  we  contemplate  the  phenomena  afforded  by  sen- 
sation, the  understanding  views  them  according  to  their  quantity, 
their  quality,  their  mode  of  existence  and  so  forth,  as  well  as  their 
causal  dependence ; and  he  considered  it  of  the  first  importance  to 
discover  the  actual  number  of  these  fixed  relations,  inasmuch  as 
we  might  learn  by  this  means  what  the  forms  or  laws  of  our  under- 
standing really  are.  If  the  direct  intuition  of  the  sensitive  faculty 
gives  us  the  elements  of  our  knowledge,  and  we  can  find  all  the 
different  modes  in  which  the  understanding  shapes  those  elements 
into  distinct  conceptions,  then,  it  is  clear,  we  shall  have  before  us 
a complete  classification  of  all  our  notions,  and  form  a table  of 
categories  upon  sounder  and  more  correct  principles  than  those 
on  which  Aristotle’s  were  founded.* 

Now,  to  determine  these  laws,  we  must  observe  all  the  different 
methods  of  judging,  that  is,  of  comparing  the  relations  which  ex- 
ist between  a subject  and  a predicate.  To  discover  these  is  the 
direct  office  of  logic,  which  shows  us  that  there  are  four  different 
connections  capable  of  subsisting  between  the  subject  and  predicate 
in  any  proposition.!  First,  the  predicate  may  express  something 
referring  to  the  quantity  of  the  subject ; secondly,  to  the  quality ; 
thirdly,  to  the  relation ; and  fourthly,  to  the  modality,  or  mode  of 
its  existence.  Each  of  these  four  head-categories,  again,  contains 
three  subordinate  ones : for  if  we  consider  the  quantity  of  any 
object,  we  may  regard  it  as  a unity,  plurality,  or  totality.  If  we 
consider  the  quality,  we  may  predicate  of  it  agreement,  disagree- 
ment, or  partial  agreement ; that  is,  we  may  regard  it  under  the 
ideas  of  affirmation,  or  negation,  or  limitation.  If,  again,  we  con- 
sider the  relations  of  an  object,  we  may  regard  its  internal  rela- 
tions, its  dependence,  or  its  external  connection  ; which  give  us  the 
categories  of  substance,  causality,  and  reciprocity,  (Wechselwir- 

* Transcendental  Logic,  sec.  3,  par.  x. 

t The  process  of  Logic  in  determining  the  different  forms  of  judgment,  is  regarded  by 
Kant  as  “ the  clue  to  the  discovery  of  all  pure  conceptions  of  the  understanding.'' 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


163 


kung ;)  or  lastly,  if  we  consider  its  mode  of  existence,  we  may 
predicate  of  it  possibility,  actuality,  and  necessity.* 

These,  then,  are  the  laws  with  which  reason  has  furnished  the 
understanding  for  framing  its  notions.  As  soon  as  intuition  gives 
us  phenomena,  this  our  active  and  constructive  faculty  examines 
them  with  respect  to  the  four  general  heads  we  have  mentioned, 
and  requires  under  each  head  one  out  of  the  three  possible  an- 
swers that  might  be  returned.  When  this  is  accomplished,  the 
notion  is  put  into  shape ; its  quantity,  quality,  relation,  and  mode 
of  existence  are  definitely  fixed. 

We  have  thus  shown  the  province  of  the  sensitive  faculty  as  I 
affording  the  matter  of  a notion,  and  the  province  of  the  under- 
standing  as  affording  the.  form;  but  then  we  might  ask, — How  do--  ' 
these  two  faculties  communicate,  and  how  is  the  understanding 
justified  in  applying  its  subjective  laws  to  objective  or  sensible 
phenomena  ? This  is  effected  by  a mediating  representation, 
which  has  such  an  affinity  to  the  matter  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
form  on  the  other,  that  by  virtue  of  its  intervention  the  formal  no- 
tion and  the  outward  phenomenon  become  united.  This  mediat- 
ing representation  is  time,  which  Kant  calls  the  schema  of  our 
notions,  and  by  the  aTdT'of  which  we  regard  the  abstract  forms  of 
the  understanding  as  having  relation  to  something  objective,  con-  ; 
Crete,  and  actually  present,  f ^ 

The  schema  of  a notion  must  be  very  carefully  distinguished 
from  a mere  image  or  conception.  Thus,  I may  have  an  image 
or  conception  of  a particular  triangle,  but  the  schema  of  a trian- 
gle is  the  general  type,  to  which  every  triangle  is  alike  referred. 

The  schema  of  every  kind  of  ball  is  a sphere,  that  of  every  possi- 
ble quantity  is  number : and  so  in  like  manner  every  notion  has  a 
mediating  representation  or  type  by  which  the  general  category  is 
applied  to  the  particular  object.  The  schema,  as  we  just  hinted, 
is  the  general  category  viewed  in  relation  to  time ; thus  the  schema 
of  all  things  implying  quantity  is  number,  i.  e.  a representation 
comprehending  the  successive  addition  of  one  to  one — a seines  in  s 
time.  The  schemata  of  quality  are  reality!  (time  filled,)  negation, 
(vacuum  in  time,)  and  limitation,  (the  transition  from  one  to  the 
other.)  And  so  also  in  the  other  cases ; so  soon  as  any  abstract 
category,  by  the  union  of  the  notion  of  time,  is  rendered  applica- 

* Trans.  Logic,  sec.  ii.  par.  ix.,  and  sec.  iii.  par.  x,  and  xi.  See  also  the  doctrine  of 
the  Kantian  categories  very  clearly  stated  by  Cousin  in  his  “ Lejons  sur  la  Phil,  dc 
Kant,”  lc9on  v. 

f Analytick  of  Principles,”  chap.  i.  p.  133. 


164 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ble  to  a diversity  of  objects,  the  schema  of  all  the  objects,  which 
are  referrible  to  that  category,  at  once  becomes  apparent.  The 
process  of  schematizing  our  notions,  Kant  shows,  is  performed  by 
the  imagination ; only  instead  of  forming  a conception  or  image 
of  some  actual  object,  it  here  only  reflects  the  general  procedure, 
by  which  the  abstract  idea  of  such  objects  is  arrived  at.*  The 
whole  process,  therefore,  by  which  we  form  a general  notion, 
is  now  complete ; we  have  the  matter  from  sensation ; the  form 
from  the  understanding ; and  then  the  two  are  united  by  the  inter- 
vention of  the  mediating  schema  of  time,  so  as  to  make  the  ab- 
stract category  applicable  to  the  actual  phenomena  of  our  sensitive 
life. 

Having  thus  fully  developed  the  process  of  the  formation  of 
ideas,  Kant  proceeds  to  analyze  the  principles,  by  which  the  judg- 
ment operates  in  the  attainment  of  truth.  It  was  before  shown 
that  judgments  are  of  two  kinds,  analytic  and  synthetic.  The 
principle  of  all  analytic  judgments,  (which  have  simply  to  pro- 
nounce upon  the  identity,  or  non-identity,  of  the  subject  and  pred- 
icate,) is  that  of  contradiction,  as  held  by  Leibnitz. f With 
regard  to  synthetic  judgments,  in  which  there  is  an  actual  increase 
of  our  knowledge,  the  case  is  different.  There  are  certain  princi- 
ples or  laws  by  which  we  make  an  objective  use  of  all  the  catego- 
ries, and  judge  of  everything  in  nature  by  the  light  which  they 
give  us.  First,  by  means  of  the  category  of  quantity,  we  regard 
everything  without  as  under  the  attribute  of  extension.  That  all 
body  is  extended,  is  an  a priori  judgment,  which  we  pronounce  as 
the  result  of  the  first  category  above  enumerated.  Secondly,  from 
the  category  of  quality  arises  the  judgment  that  every  sensa- 
tion must  have  some  degree  of  intensity — that  we  may  regard  all 
phenomena  as  continuous  quantities,  each  possessing  an  infinite 
number  of  degrees  between  itself  and  nothing.  This  is  termed  the 
anticipation  (nqolritfig)  of  experience.  The  third  category  (that  of 
relation)  gives  rise  to  the  “ axioms  of  relation,”  or  analogies  of  ex- 
perience ; namely,  «.  that  in  all  phenomena  there  is  something 
durable,  f.  that  every  event  must  have  a cause,  and  y.  that  all  co- 
existent phenomena  must  have  a community  or  reciprocity  be- 
tween themselves.  Lastly,  the  category  of  modality  gives  rise  to 
the  postulates  of  experience,  which  are  these : «.  That  which 
agrees  with  the  formal  conditions  of  experience  is  possible. 

* “ Analytick  of  Principles,”  chap.  i.  p.  135. 

+ “ Analytick  of  Principles,”  First  Div.  p.  144. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


165 


That  which  accords  with  the  material  conditions  of  experience 
is  real.  y.  Whatever  is  connected  with  the  actual  by  the  general  — l 
conditions  of  experience  necessarily  exists.  If  the  reader  will 
carefully  compare  these  principles  with  the  subdivisions  of  the  four 
head-categories,  he  will  see  how  in  each  instance  the  a priori  judg- 
ment  is  connected  with  and  springs  from  the  corresponding  a priori 
idea.  Never  perhaps  was  there  a more  profound  attempt  made  at 
grounding  the  primary  laws  of  human  belief,  or,  as  they  are  termed 
by  the  Scottish  School,  the  principles  of  common  sense,  upon  the 
ultimate  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  as  reflected  in  the  for- 
mal rules  of  logical  thinking.* 

The  results  of  the  whole  doctrine  of  the  understanding  can  now 
be  distinctly  seen.  The  judgments  which  arise  from  the  two 
former  categories  are  termed  by  Kant,  mathematical  judgments ; 
they  refer  to  the  abstract  relations  of  space  in  the  forms  of  exten- 
sion and  of  divisibility,  and  render  a pure  science  of  mathematics 
possible  and  valid.  The  two  latter  categories  give  rise  to  what  are 
termed  dynamical  judgments  ; they  refer  not  to  the  primary  attri- 
butes of  objects  viewed  a priori,  but  to  the  principles  of  existence 
generally,  as  given  in  experience.  On  these  laws  reposes  the  truth 
of  all  physical  science  ; nay,  as  experience  is  only  possible  through 
them,  the  principles  of  nature,  objectively  considered,  must  abso- 
lutely correspond  with  those  of  the  human  mind.  The  more  gene- 
ral results  of  the  whole  are  these  : First,  that  the  truth  of  a notion 
does  not  consist,  as  Locke  affirms,  in  the  conformity  of  our  idea 
of  it  with  the  outward  reality,  but  upon  the  validity  or  trustworth- 
iness of  our  subjective  laws.  If  my  conception  of  an  outward 
object,  such  as  a tree  or  a mountain,  be  constructed  formally  by 
the  subjective  principles  of  my  intelligence,  then,  for  the  truth  of 
that  conception,  we  must  simply  appeal  to  the  validity  of  the  prin- 
ciples in  question.  Secondly,  it  follows  that  our  real  knowledge 
cannot  go  beyond  the  limits  of  experience,  since  the  understand- 
ing is  merely  ^formal  or  constructive  faculty,  and  plunges  us  into 
error  and  confusion  the  moment  we  make  it  the  test  of  any  objec- 
tive reality. f Such  is  the  result  of  the  transcendental  logic;  we 
must  now  proceed  to  the  province  of  pure  reason,  and  learn  what 

* “ Analytick  of  principles,”  sec.  iii.  The  deduction  of  the  above  principles  from  the 
categories,  is  given  by  Kant  at  great  length,  forming  one  of  the  most  profound  chapters 
in  the  whole  of  the  “ Critick  of  Pure  Reason.” 

f See  Appendix  to  the  “ Trans.  Logic,”  in  wliich  Kant  shows  the  Amphiboly,  which 
arises  from  changing  the  experimental  use  of  the  understanding  for  the  transcendental. 


166 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


further  conclusions  can  be  drawn  from  the  Transcendental  Dia- 
lectick. 

Pure  reason  is  the  highest  faculty  in  man,  because  it  is  that 
which  regulates  the  rest,  and  which  seeks  to  bring  unity  and  con- 
-nection  into  all  the  results  of  the  understanding.  The  under- 
standing can  only  form  a judgment,  but  reason  can  combine  two 
judgments  by  a middle  term,  and  draw  from  them  a general  con- 
clusion. The  constant  aim  of  the  reasoning  faculty  is  evidently 
to  generalize,  and  by  that  means  to  Strive  after  absolute  unity.  If 
I say,  man  is  immortal,  I pass  a simple  judgment  upon  him.  But 
my  reason  prompts  me  to  ask  why  this  judgment  is  correct ; and 
to  answer  such  inquiry,  it  constructs  an  argument  or  syllogism  of 
this  kind : All  spirit  is  immortal — man  is  a spirit — therefore  man 
is  immortal ; in  which  argument  we  have  grounded  our  first  judg- 
ment (that  man  is  mortal),  upon  a higher  and  more  general  prin- 
ciple, the  immortality  of  spirit.  This  process,  if  carried  on,  aims, 
it  is  evident,  at  the  final,  the  absolute,  the  unconditional,  in  hu- 
man knowledge,  every  fresh  generalization  leading  us  nearer  to  the 
fundamental  unity  at  which  we  aim.* 

To  find  out  the  forms  of  our  reasoning  faculty,  we  must  proceed 
in  the  same  way  as  we  did  with  the  understanding — that  is,  we 
must  consult  the  science  of  logic,  and  see  in  how  many  ways  we  may 
combine  our  judgments  into  a conclusion.  Now  logic  points  out 
to  us  three  modes  by  which  this  may  be  accomplished ; for  we  can 
employ  for  this  pui-pose  the  categorical  syllogism,  the  hypothetical, 
or  the  disjunctive,  all  three  of  which,  it  will  be  observed,  seek  the 
same  end  by  different  methods.  In  the  categorical,  we  seek  to 
generalize  by  means  of  the  relation  of  substance  and  accident,  at 
each  step  rejecting  some  of  the  accidents,  and  attaining  a more 
universal  subject.  In  the  hypothetical,  we  generalize  by  means  of 
the  relation  of  ground  and  consequence  indicated  by  our  always 
employing  the  form  “ if.”  And,  lastly,  in  the  disjunctive  we  gen- 
eralize by  the  relation  of  parts  and  a whole.  In  the  first  case  we 
proceed  forwards  till  we  arrive  at  the  absolute  subject,  which  is 
the  soul;  in  the  second,  we  seek  the  absolute  union  and  depend- 
ence of  every  single  thing  in  a whole,  that  is,  the  universe — the 
totality  of  all  phenomena ; and  in  the  third  case,  we  seek  the  ab- 
solute idea  of  all  possibility,  namely,  the  all-perfect  Being,  who 
possesses  every  possible  perfection,  and  excludes  every  possible 
negation.! 

* Trans.  Dialectick.  Introduction,  par.  ii. 

f Trans.  Dialectick.  Book  I.  sec.  2. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


167 


That  which  results  from  the  exercise  of  our  understanding,  as 
we  have  before  explained  it,  Kant  calls  notions  (Begriffe),  but  that 
which  results  from  the  exercise  of  the  reason  he  terms  ideas  {Ideen 
or  Noumena),  and  it  was  the  clear  apprehension  of  the  difference 
between  these  two,  which  Kant  considered  as  one  of  the  greatest 
services  he  had  rendered  to  philossphy.  Notions  are  derived  pri- 
marily from  experience ; and,  as  they  draw  their  matter  from  sen- 
sation, can  always  be  traced  back  to  a fundamental  reality  ; they 
are  within  the  limits  of  our  real  perceptive  knowledge,  and  there- 
fore may  be  ever  employed  in  the  construction  of  a true  science. 
Mathematics,  for  example,  will  evidently  form  a true  science,  be- 
cause all  the  relations  of  number  and  space  can  be  schematized 
and  viewed  by  a direct  perception ; and  physics,  too,  will  form  a 
true  science,  because  the  objects  of  it  likewise  are  known  percep- 
tively ; but  the  case  is  altogether  different  when  we  pass  from  the 
region  of  notions  to  that  of  ideas.  Ideas  have  not  their  basis  in 
perception — they  are  the  pure  creations  of  the  reason ; they  repre- 
sent its  perpetual  struggle  after  unity,  and  can  never  be  supposed 
real  without  giving  rise  to  perpetual  absurdity  and  contradiction. 
In  fact,  the  forms  and  categories  of  the  pure  reason  are  only  in- 
tended to  regulate  the  use  of  the  understanding,  and  enable  it  to 
generalize  its  judgments ; never  can  they  be  allowed  to  make  good 
any  kind  of  objective  knowledge  whatever. 

Nothwithstanding  this,  however,  pure  reason  by  virtue  of  its 
constitution  ever  aims  at  the  realization  of  our  supersensual  ideas, 
and  strives  to  make  them  the  signs  of  actually  existing  objects, 
thus  giving  rise  to  a science  of  pure  metaphysics  under  the  three 
corresponding  heads  of  Psychology,  or  the  doctrine  of  the  soul ; 
of  Cosmology,  or  the  doctrine  of  the  universe  ; and  of  Theology,  or 
the  doctrine  respecting  God. 

Kant  admits  that  our  reason  is  so  constituted  that  we  cannot 
but  form  the  idea  of  a thinking  subject,  the  unity  of  all  subjective 
phenomena ; and  hence  the  force  of  the  Cartesian  principle, 
“Cogito  ergo  sum.”  He  admits,  in  like  manner,  that  we  must 
ground  all  external  appearances  in  a real  substance,  and  thus  form 
the  conception  of  the  universe.  And,  finally,  he  allows  that  we 
inevitably  trace  all  conditions  of  existence  up  to  the  supreme  con- 
dition, the  “ ens  realissimum,”  and  thus  attain  to  the  idea  of  a God. 
Nay,  he  affirms  that  this  procedure  of  the  pure  reason  is  so  natural 
and  inevitable,  that  nothing  will  ever  prevent  its  being  perpetually 
reproduced ; but  notwithstanding  all  this,  he  undertakes  to  show 


168 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


that  these  great  ideas,  to  which  the  reason  ever  points,  can  have 
only  a subjective  validity,  and  that  the  three  corresponding  branches 
of  metaphysics,  therefore,  if  they  are  permitted  to  stand  as  vouchers 
for  any  objective  truth,  are  pure  illusions.  The  attempt  to  exhibit 
and  counteract  such  illusion,  is  the  purport  of  the  “ Transcenden- 
tal Dialectick.”* 

To  prove  that  these  ideas  of  pure  metaphysics  are  simply  formal, 
and  cannot  be  used  as  possessing  any  objective  reality,  or  be  logi- 
cally deduced,  Kant  goes  into  a long  discussion,  in  which  he  shows 
the  fallacies  to  which  such  a use  of  them  always  gives  rise. 

The  ordinary  conclusions  of  Psychology  on  the  nature  of  the 
soul  are  these : — 1st,  that  it  is  a substance  ; 2dly,  that  it  is  simple ; 
3dly,  that  it  is  a unity  ; 4thly,  that  it  is  related  to  all  objects  in 
space.  These  conclusions  Kant  shows,  by  a long  process  of  ar- 
gumentation. to  be  purely  delusive,  (paralogisms  of  pure  reason  ;) 
and  decides,  finally,  that  the  immateriality,  immortality,  and  per- 
sonality of  the  soul,  can  neither  be  proved  nor  disproved ; that 
they  are  objects  lying  altogether  beyond  the  limits  of  human  rea- 
son. Our  author  next  proceeds  to  the  ordinary  conclusions  of 
Cosmology.  To  the  argument  which  proves  that  the  world  had  a 
commencement  in  time,  and  is  limited  in  space,  he  shows,  that 
there  are  other  arguments  which  prove  with  equal  conclusiveness, 
exactly  the  reverse.  All  the  other  conclusions  of  Cosmology,  he 
shows,  are  subject  to  the  same  contradictions,  (antinomies  of  pure 
reason,)  consequently  that  the  origin  and  essential  nature  of  the 
universe  can  never  be  demonstrated,  the  subject  lying  entirely  be- 
yond the  reach  of  our  faculties.  Lastly,  Kant  points  out  the  nat- 
ural procedure  of  the  reason  to  form  a conception  of  God,  (ideal 
of  pure  reason,)  but  maintains  at  great  length,  that  none  of  the 
arguments,  whether  ontological,  cosmological,  or  physico- theologi- 
cal, by  which  the  being  of  a God  has  been  affirmed,  as  an  objective 
reality,  can  ever  prove  their  point,  nor  any  arguments  ever  prove 
the  contrary. 

Hence  the  criticism  of  pure  reason  cuts  at  the  very  root  of  all 
scepticism  on  such  matters,  and  shows  that  these  supersensuous 
ideas,  if  not  demonstrable,  nevertheless  are  most  assuredly  yiossf- 
hle ; and  hence  too  Kant  confirmed  his  former  conclusion,  that 
scientific  knowledge  is  confined  to  the  world  of  experience,  and 
that  the  only  true~melaphysics  are  those,  whichffiave  an  empirical 
basis.  Such,  then,  are  the  rigid  conclusions  to  which  Kant  ar- 

* Trans.  Dialectick,  Book  i.  sec.  3. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


169 


rived,  concerning  the  speculative  reason  of  man — conclusions  by 
which  he  hoped  to  place  every  future  system  of  philosophy  upon  a 
correct  foundation.* 

From  the  view  we  have  just  taken  of  the  pure  reason,  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  upon  Kant’s  system  its  whole  procedure  is  negative. 
Sensation  and  understanding  combined,  can  introduce  us  into  a 
world  of  real  objective  existence ; but  reason  in  its  sphere,  entirely 
fails  to  do  so ; its  whole  office  is  formal  or  constructive ; and  the 
proper  discipline  of  it  is  entirely  occupied  in  warning  us  against 
the  delusions  we  run  into,  when  we  imagine  ourselves  capable  of 
holding  direct  converse  with  the  noumenal  or  supersensual  world. 
But  now  having  established  these  negative  conclusions  from  the 
Critick  of  pure  reason,  Kant  proceeds  to  find  a positive  ground  of 
certainty  for  supersensual  realities  in  the  practical  reason.  Let  it 
be  admitted  that  we  have  no  faculty  by  which  we  can  communi- 
cate objectively  with  pure  being,  by  which  we  can  know,  by 
direct  intuition,  the  soul — the  essence  of  the  universe — and  God ; 
it  does  not  follow  that  we  may  not  find  a subjective  ground  of  be- 
lief in  these  things  within  our  own  consciousness.  Does  then  such 
a ground  of  belief  really  exist  within  us  ? Assuredly,  Kant  replies, 
it  exists  in  our  moral  nature ; for  here  the  whole  question  of  hu- 
man destiny,  with  everything  implied  in  it,  finds  a meaning  and  a 
reality.  Ideas,  therefore,  which  in  theory  cannot  hold  good,  in 
practice  are  seen  to  have  a reality,  because  they  are  indissolubly 
related  to  the  laws  of  human  action,  and  involved  in  the  very  prin- 
ciples, by  which  our  moral  life  is  regulated. 

To  explain  this,  let  it  be  observed,  that  the  fact  of  our  possess- 
ing a moral  nature,  is  one  which  rests  upon  the  direct  evidence  of 
consciousness.  We  can  no  more  deny  the  existence  of  moral  ideas 
and  the  inward  authority  of  conscience,  than  we  can  deny  the  very 
categories  of  our  understanding.  Reason,  in  truth,  has  not  only  a 
theoretical,  but  it  has  also  a practical  movement,  by  which  it  reg- 
ulates the  conduct  of  man ; and  this  it  does  with  such  a lofty 
bearing  and  such  an  irresistible  authority,  that  it  is  impossible  for 
any  rational  being  to  deny  its  dictates.  In  the  language  of  Kant- 
ism,  consciousness  reveals  to  us  the  autonomy  of  the  will,  and  this 
autonomy  expresses  itself  in  an  absolute  moral  law,  in  a categorical 
imperative. 

* Kant’s  great  work,  the  Kritik  reiner  Vernunft,”  concludes  with  a division  called 
Transcendental  Methodology.  He  has  there  given  practical  remarks  on  the  discipline 
of  reason — the  canon  of  reason,  (proper  use  of  the  moral  faculties ;)  the  architectonick 
of  pure  reason,  (division  of  the  pure  sciences,)  and  the  histoiy  of  pure  reason.  I only 
indicate  this,  in  passing,  to  show  the  completeness  of  Kant’s  Survey  of  the  Reason. 


170 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Now,  what  do  this  moral  nature  and  unconditional  command  to 
right  action  imply  ? Manifestly  they  imply  freedom ; for  on  no 
other  ground  is  moral  action,  strictly  so  termed,  possible.  Again, 
they  imply  the  existence  of  a God,  otherwise  there  were  a law 
without  a lawgiver,  without  an  appeal,  without  a judge.  Lastly, 
they  imply  a future  state  as  the  goal  to  which  all  human  actions 
tend,  and  in  which  our  moral  existence  shall  find  its  completion. 
Theoretical  or  pure  reason  showed  that  these  things  were  possible, 
although  it  could  never  attain  to  their  actual  existence ; but  prac- 
tical I’eason  asserts  their  reality,  not  indeed  as  a demonstrative 
truth,  but  as  a truth  that  is  implied  in  the  whole  constitution  and 
tendency  of  our  moral  nature.  In  this  part  of  his  philosophy  Kant 
rendered  good  service  to  the  true  interests  of  morality ; neither 
can  we  too  much  admire  the  force  with  which  he  repels  every 
low,  selfish,  or  utilitarian  ground  of  morality,  basing  it  all  upon  the 
categorical  imperative — the  authoritative  voice  of  the  great  Law- 
giver of  the  universe,  as  its  everlasting  foundation.  It  is  true  that 
all  these  matters  lie  beyond  the  region  of  actual  science ; but 
nevertheless  they  are  within  the  bounds  of  a rational  faith,  (Ver- 
nunftglaube,)  the  dictates  of  which  every  sound  mind  will  readily 
admit. 

Between  the  theoretical  and  the  practical  movement,  however, 
there  is  a third  division  of  philosophy,  which  Kant  terms  “ The 
Critick  of  the  Judging  Faculty,”  (Kritik  der  Urtheilskraft.)  The 
judging  Faculty  is  regarded  by  Kant  as  the  intermediate  step  be- 
tween the  understanding  and  the  reason  ; and  the  results  of  it  are 
certain  feelings  of  pleasure  and  displeasure,  such  as  we  express 
under  the  terms  sublime  and  beautiful,  or  their  reverse.  The 
Critick  of  this  faculty  unites  that  of  the  theoretical  and  the  prac- 
tical reason,  as  it  were,  in  a middle  point.  Pure  reason  contem- 
plates nature,  practical  reason  contemplates  freedom,  the  judging 
faculty  unites  the  two  provinces  by  viewing  nature  as  a system  of 
means,  constructed  by  the  highest  reason  to  bring  about  certain 
ends.  In  this  part  of  his  philosophy  Kant  first  analyzes  the  notions 
of  the  sublime  and  beautiful,  and  then  develops  the  principle  of  Te- 
leology or  final  purposes  in  nature,  as  the  legitimate  offspring  of 
the  judgment.  The  great  benefit  of  this  Critick,  therefore,  arises 
from  its  connecting  the  theoretical  philosophy  with  the  practical, 
from  the  explanation  it  offers  of  those  lofty  emotions  which  result 
from  our  pei'ception  of  the  design  everywhere  manifested  in  Organ- 
ized nature,  and  the  consequent  notion  which  it  imparts  of  a final 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


171 


end  to  which  the  whole  universe  is  tending  (Teleologie.)  In  this 
way  our  sesthetic  sentiments  confirm  the  belief  of  the  practical 
reason  in  immortality  and  God,  and  make  the  real  conclusion  of 
the  whole  system  as  assertative  of  the  great  fundamentals  of  mo- 
rality and  natural  religion,  as  could  possibly  be  attained  to  without 
an  actual  demonstration. 

Let  us,  then,  briefly  review  the  object,  which  the  Kantian  phi- 
losophy as  a whole  professedly  kept  in  view,  and  sum  up  the  steps 
by  which  it  endeavored  to  accomplish  it.  The  great  question  of 
the  school  both  of  Descartes  and  Locke  was  this — Does  all  our 
knowledge  come  from  experience,  or  is  some  of  it  stamped  with  an 
absolute  and  a priori  character  ? Hume  assumed  the  Lockian  or 
empirical  hypothesis,  and  educed  from  it  a system  of  universal 
scepticism.  On  the  other  hand.  Wolf,  taught  by  Leibnitz,  as- 
sumed the  Cartesian  hypothesis  in  a modified  form ; and  by  the 
incessant  use  of  mere  logical  definitions,  as  though  they  could 
stand  in  the  place  of  things  themselves,  gave  rise  to  a system  of 
empty  formalism.  Kant  originally  belonged  to  the  Wolfhin  school ; 
but  he  so  far  sympathized  with  Hume  as  to  feel  the  absolute  ne- 
cessity of  admitting  the  claims  of  experience,  the  very  element 
which  the  Wolfian  school  had  disregarded. 

The  question,  then,  with  Kant  was  this — Cannot  the  claims  of 
these  two  schools  be  adjusted  ? Admitting  the  necessity  of  expe- 
rience, of  what  does  experience  consist  ? what  are  the  elements  of 
it  ? does  it  not  itself  contain  some  a priori  principle  1 To  answer 
this  was  the  aim  of  his  “ Critick,”  and  the  answer  it  returned  v/as 
decisive.  Knowledge,  it  declared,  cannot  consist  simply  in  the' 
intimations  of  sense,  for  they  alone  would  be  formless ; neither 
can  it  consist  simply  in  a priori  conceptions,  for  they  would  be 
matterless ; but  it  consists  in  a synthesis  of  both,  the  one  giving  the 
form,  the  other  the  matter.  What  conclusions  then  flow' from  this 
view  of  the  case?  Manifestly  these — that  valid  objective  knowl- 
edge must  be  confined  to  the  limits  of  experience  ; that  beyond 
these  limits  there  may  be  formal  ideas  ; but  no  matter,  no  reality ; 
that  the  universal  conceptions  which  arise  from  the  synthesis  of 
matter  and  form  are  absolutely  true  to  us ; but  that  we  cannot 
pronounce  anything  to  be  absolutely  true  beyond  the  limits  of  our 
own  subjective  method  of  viewing  it.  Kantism,  therefore,  instead 
of  denying  the  'whole  certainty  of  human  knowledge,  as  Hume 
did,  merely  limits  it : “ If  we  w'ould  go  beyond  our  nature,”  he  says. 


172 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


“ we  must  be  content  to  rush  into  darkness  ; but  within  that  nature, 
consciousness  is  sure  and  certain.” 

But  a grave  question  now  arises'.  If  we  cannot  have  objective 
certainty  beyond  the  limits  of  sense,  what  becomes  of  our  ideas  of 
substance,  of  the  soul,  of  God — ideas  which  all  admit  to  be  nou- 
- menal  or  supersensual  ? “ Reason,”  says  Kant,  “ can  never  assure 

us  of  their  existence  ; attempt  to  deduce  them,  and  you  fall  into 
endless  paralogisms ; as  ideas,  they  exist,  but  only  as  ideas,  for  the 
senses  cannot  clothe  them  with  outward  reality.”  Are  we  then  to 
sit  down  in  the  dreary  belief  that  there  is  no  moral  law,  no  spiritual 
nature,  no  immortality,  no  God  ? Far  from  it.  Reason,  it  is  true, 
can  never  vouch  for  their  certainty ; but  still  it  has  been  shown 
that  our  consciousness  is  veracious  ; that  what  is  indestructibly 
impressed  upon  it  must  be  true ; and  that,  although  we  cannot 
demonstrate  the  fundamental  ideas  of  ethics  and  religion,  yet,  as 
they  are  a part  of  our  moral  consciousness,  they  must  be  accepted 
L-as  morally  certain.  They  rest,  indeed,  upon  the  same  ground  as 
does  our  belief  in  the  categories  of  our  own  intelligence,  namely, 
upon  the  ground  of  consciousness  itself.  Although,  therefore,  we 
are  obliged  to  say  that  scientifically  Kant  only  admitted  the  idea 
of  God  as  a regulative  principle,  and  not  as  implying  an  objective 
reality,  yet  morally  he  indicated  the  grounds  of  natural  religion 
^_with  a power,  with  which  scepticism  could  not  very  easily  cope.  In 
the  practical  reason,  moral  consciousness  has  an  entire  authority ; 
its  word  must  here  be  taken  as  law.  And  to  make  these  conclu- 
sions more  certain,  Kant  shows,  in  the  “ Critick  of  the  Judging 
Faculty,”  that  there  is  a perfect  harmony  between  the  moral  con- 
sciousness of  man  and  the  whole  purpose  and  design  of  the  universe. 

From  the  whole  of  this  view  it  will  be  seen  that  Kant,  though 
avoiding  the  ultimate  conclusion  both  of  scepticism  and  pure 
idealism,  yet  stood  on  a narrow  point  between  both.  “ Kantism,” 
says  M.  Remusat,  “ is  not  exactly  idealism,  nor  scepticism.  His 
doctrine  is  eminently  a rationalism,  with  a tendency  to  idealism, 
and  a risk  of  scepticism,  through  the  idea  of  a universal  subjec- 
tivity. But  the  idea  of  a universal  subjectivity  is  not  of  itself  ex- 
clusive. Universal  subjectivity  might  be  true  in  the  sense  that 
everything  is  subjective,  that  is  to  say,  that  everything  is  thought 
by  us,  even  the  absolutely  unknown,  under  the  form  of  the  possible. 
But  from  the  fact  that  everything  in  this  sense  would  be  subjec- 
tive, it  does  not  follow  that  the  subjective  is  everything ; for  in  the 
subjective  we  find  the  objective,  for  example,  the  non-consciousness 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


173 


of  the  origin  of  experience ; and  this  is  the  point  which  Kant  ac- 
cepts as  the  starting-point  in  his  philosophy.”* 

The  writings  of  Kant  form  incomparably  the  greatest  era  in 
modern  philosophy,  and  the  results  of  them  have  become  insensibly 
incorporated  more  or  less  into  all  our  metaphysical  thinking.  The 
chief  services  he  rendered  to  the  cause  of  speculative  philosophy 
are  the  following.  In  the  analj^sis  of  perception,  he  separated  with 
great  clearness  the  subjective  element  from  the  objective,  explain- 
ing more  fully  than  had  ever  been  done  before,  the  great  funda- 
mental distinction  existing  between  the  matter  of  our  ideas  and  the 
form.  In  the  analysis  of  the  understanding,  he  afforded  a new, 
and  in  many  respects,  an  admirable  classification  of  the  logical 
processes  of  thought,  tracing  them  all  to  the  ground-principles  of 
our  intellectual  being,  and  showing  the  subjective  validity  of  our 
primitive  judgments.  Thirdly,  he  pointed  out  the  existence  of  a 
higher  faculty  in  man,  that  of  pure  reason,  by  means  of  which  we 
rise  from  the  finite  notions  which  lie  within  the  limits  of  our  ex- 
perience, to  those  lofty  and  supersensual  ideas  which  link  us  to  the 
infinite  and  eternal. 

But  the  greatest  service  which  Kant  rendered  to  the  interests 
of  truth,  was  that  of  silencing,  by  his  practical  philosophy,  the 
then  current  objections  of  a shallow  scepticism  against  the  funda- 
mentals of  morality  and  of  natural  religion,  and  placing  them  both 
upon  a basis  altogether  beyond  the  influence  of  any  ordinary  argu- 
mentation. If  we  add  to  this  the  clear  and  broad  light  in  which 
he  placed  the  chief  problems  of  metaphysical  inquiry,  and  the  truly 
scientific  spirit  he  infused  into  those  investigations,  we  shalfbecome 
sensible  how  much  all  future  ages  will  be  indebted  to  this  great 
thinker  for  the  position  he  occupied  in  the  history  and  progress  of 
philosophy. 

We  must  now,  however,  in  few  words,  show  the  chief  points  in 
which  his  philosophy  is  most  vulnerable,  and  thence  exhibit  the 
part  it  took  in  building  up  a complete  system  of  idealism.  The 
first  objection,  which  would  naturally  strike  one  on  first  becoming 
acquainted  with  the  critical  philosophy,  is  the  total  want  of  con- 
nection between  the  theoretical  and  the  practical  side  of  it  Con- 
clusions the  most  important,  and  most  rigid,  are  adduced  by  the 
criticism  of  the  speculative  reason,  which  must  all  be  forgotten  the 
moment  we  have  to  do  with  the  practical.  It  is  evident  that  there 
is  here  a want  of  unity,  that  the  ground  on  which  the  system  rests 

* “ De  la  Philosophie  Allemande,”  p.  xxii. 


174 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


is  shifted,  and  that  many  a mind  which  had  been  convinced  on  the 
first  and  scientific  ground,  might  hesitate  to  receive  opposite  con- 
clusions that  rest  upon  tlie  second  ground,  and  that  not  a scientific 
one  at  all,  but  only  an  undemonstrable  belief.  Can  it  be  true,  that 
two  courses  of  reasoning,  both  perfectly  legitimate,  could  possibly 
conduct  us  to  such  different  results  ? It  seems,  upon  reflection, 
almost  inevitable,  that  there  must  be  some  more  fundamental  law, 
or  fact  of  consciousness,  from  which  the  theoretical  and  the  prac- 
tical movement  equally  take  their  rise,  and  in  the  light  of  which 
their  apparent  discrepaneies  will  disappear. 

Secondly,  there  are  some  unsatisfactory  points,  which  make 
their  appearance  in  the  development  of  Kant’s  psychology.  First 
of  all,  there  is  no  account  taken  of  the  power  of  the  will.  I am 
aware  that  Kant  amply  repairs  this  omission  in  his  practical  phi- 
losophy ; but  the  question  is,  whether  there  can  possibly  be  a com- 
plete view  of  the  human  consciousness,  theoretically  considered, 
when  an  element  so  important  as  that  of  the  will,  with  all  the 
ideas  resulting  from  it,  is  omitted.  Then,  again,  there  is  some- 
thing inexplicable  in  the  fact,  that  certain  pure  a priori  ideas  are 
attributed  separately  to  the  sensitive,  the  intellectual,  and  the 
rational  faculty.  How  can  it  be  said  that  time  and  space  are 
simply  the  a priori  product  of  sensitivity,  and  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  understanding ; or,  on  what  grounds  can  the  abstract 
ideas  of  the  understanding  be  regarded  as  having  nothing  to  do 
with  the  reason  ? “ The  glory  of  Kant,”  remarks  M.  Cousin,  “ is, 
that  he  . sought  to  determine  all  the  a priori  elements  of  human 
knowledge ; but  in  distinguishing,  as  he  does,  the  pure  forms  of 
sensitivity,  the  conceptions  of  the  understanding,  and  the  ideas  of 
reason,  he  wrongly  separates  things  which  ought  to  be  united,  and 
all  referred  to  one  and  the  same  faculty,  namely,  the  faculty  of 
knowing  in  general  (intellection) ; that  faculty  which  transcends 
experience,  renders  sensuous  knowledge  possible,  by  supplying  it 
with  ideas  of  time  and  space,  and,  later  still,  renders  all  human 
knowledge  possible,  by  the  aid  of  the  categories  and  ideas,  which 
develop  themselves  successively,  in  proportion  as  it  develops 
itself.”’*' 

The  adoption  of  a broader  principle  in  accounting  for  the  a 
priori  elements  of  human  knowledge,  would  have  gone  far  to  dis- 
sipate the  delusion  of  regarding  time  and  space  simply  as  phenomena 
of  our  own  inward  consciousness.  In  making  them  purely  sub- 

* “ Lemons  sur  la  Phil,  de  Kant,”  p.  153. 


GERMAN  IDEALISM 


175 


jective,  and  regarding  all  the  time-and-space  qualities  of  the  ex- 
ternal world  as  purely  subjective  also,  he  attributed  far  too  much 
to  the  inward  law,  and  far  too  little  to  the  outward  fact.  When 
we  consider  that  Kant  regarded  both  the  understanding  and  the 
reason  as  simply  formal  and  regulative  principles,  that  he  admitted 
sensation  alone  as  capable  of  affording  any  of  the  material  of  our 
thoughts,  and  when  we  unite  with  this  the  extreme  attenuation  of 
the  objective  element  even  in  sensation  itself,  we  at  once  become 
conscious  how  near  he  treads  upon  the  verge  of  pure  idealism. 
The  younger'  Fichte  remarks,  upon  this  point,  somewhat  severely, 
as  follows : — “ That  which  belongs  to  time  and  space  on  the  one 
hand,  is  (according  to  Kant)  bare  phenomenon  or  appearance, 
behind  which  the  real  thing  hides  itself ; neither,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  the  ideas  of  the  pure  reason  anything  but  a negative 
import ; and  so  this  philosophy,  both  in  its  lower  and  higher  move- 
ment, remains  entirely  empty  of  all  reality ; it  is  a theory  wisely 
founded  indeed,  and  admirable  in  its  original  plan,  but  on  account 
of  one  error  (that  respecting  time  and  space)  in  the  outset,  and  the 
logical  consequences  of  it  in  the  execution,  it  sinks  at  last  into  an 
enormous  deficit,  and  ends  in  a palpable  contradiction.”* 

But  the  weightiest  objection  against  the  doctrines  of  Kant  we 
conceive  to  be  the  fact,  that  he  makes  reason,  with  all  its  conclu 
sions,  purely  subjective  and  personal.  The  categories  with  him 
are  simply  subjective  laws,  while  the  supersensual  ideas  or  nou 
mena,  which  the  reason  forms,  are  nought  but  regulative  princi 
pies,  and  can  point  us  to  no  real  existence,  inasmuch  as  we  have  m- 
right  to  transport  them  out  of  ourselves,  and  make  them  signs  of 
objective  reality.  Truth  may,  therefore,  ever  be  truth,  so  long  as 
our  minds  remain  as  they  are  ; but  as  we  can  never  get  beyond 
the  bounds  of  our  own  subjectivity,  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  affirm 
that  any  conclusion  of  our  reason  is  “per  se”  eternally  true,  or 
that  to  us  there  is  such  a thing  as  truth  at  all,  outside  the  limits  of 
our  own  direct  consciousness.  The  ground  of  this  delusion  (for 
as  such  we  assuredly  regard  it)  appears  to  lie  in  the  purely  abstract 
view  which  Kant  endeavored  to  take  of  the  a priori  element  in 
human  knowledge.  Anxious  to  separate  this  element  from  any 
admixture  of  empiricism,  he  views  it  solely  in  its  connection  with 
the  human  mind.  Phenomenon  and  essence,  matter  and  form,  are 
regarded  as  entirely  distinct  from  each  other,,  and  the  effort  of 
Kantism  is  to  establish  the  reality  of  each  element  in  its  isolation 
♦ tleber  Gegensatz,  Wendepunkt,  and  Ziel  heutiger  Philosophia.  Erster  Theil,  p.  172. 


176 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Essential  existence,  however,  never  reveals  itself  per  se : we  can- 
not realize  in  a direct  consciousness  the  hare  essence  either  of  the 
soul  or  the  world,  and  consequently  Kant  is  obliged  to  view  them  on 
his  principles,  simply  as  subjective  forms  or  laws  of  our  own  reason. 
Had  he  traced  up  the  actual  character  of  our  ideas  to  their  pi'imi- 
tive  state  or  origin,  it  would  have  become  at  once  apparent,  that 
nothing  is  given  to  us  originally  in  the  abstract,  but  always  in  the 
concrete ; that  essential  existence  reveals  itself  to  us,  first  in  con- 
nection with  phenomena,  and  that  it  is  only  by  degrees  that  we 
view  it  abstractedly,  as  the  substratum  by  which  all  phenomena 
are  supported.*  In  Kant’s  entire  separation  of  the  pure  and  ab- 
stract element  of  our  knowledge  from  the  empirical,  we  recognize 
the  germ  of  a principle  which  tends  inevitably  to  a subjective 
idealism.  The  idea  of  nature,  it  is  true,  is  not  destroyed,  but  it  is 
contracted  to  the  narrowest  possible  limits  ; — the  idea  of  God,  or 
the  absolute,  is  banished  altogether  from  the  region  of  strict  phi- 
losophy, and  made  to  rest  only  upon  a lower  kind  of  belief;  the 
reason,  that  emanation  from  heaven,  that  portion  of  eternal  truth 
that  is  granted  by  the  infinite  mind  to  the  finite,  is  turned  into  a 
personal  and  regulative  law,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  subjective 
ME,  if  it  does  not  actually  create  matter,  yet  gives  it  all  its  attri- 
butes, includes  as  part  of  itself  all  the  categories  from  which  the 
laws  of  nature,  as  perceived  by  us,  originate,  and  possesses  the  idea 
of  God,  in  such  a manner  as  simply  to  imply  an  inward  principle, 
not  at  all  as  indicating  an  outward  fact.  The  grand  error  is  the 
want  of  faith  in  reason  as  the  revealer  of  eternal  verities.  Admit 
the  non-personality  of  reason ; place  it  on  the  same  footing  as  con- 
sciousness ; mould  the  Kantian  doctrine  to  this  idea,  and  it  would 
evolve  a mass  of  abstract  truth  which  no  scepticism  could  shake. 
As  it  stands,  however,  it  has  given  occasion  to  the  re-separation 
of  the  empirical  and  a priori  elements,  which  it  strove  to  unite 
into  an  indissoluble  synthesis.  In  this  separation  the  whole  of  the 
modern  German  idealism  has  its  commencement. t 

* See  Cousin’s  Legons,  Lee.  6.  and  8. 

f Kant’s  “ Kritik  reiner  Vernunft”  was  translated  into  Latin  soon  after  its  appear- 
ance by  Born.  An  excellent  translation  has  more  recently  been  made  by  M.  Tissot  into 
French ; and  a faithful  but  somewhat  inelegant  English  translation  was  published  in 
18.38,  (London,  W.  Pickering.)  Abundant  materials  have  been  furnished  by  recent 
French  authors,  for  the  stuay  of  the  Kantian  philosophy,  of  which  the  best  will  be 
found  in  M.  Wilhn’s  “ Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  Allemande,”  and  BI.  Cousin’s 
“ Logons,”  already  referred  to.  In  English,  there  is  a useful  manual  of  the  Critical 
Philosophy,  by  A.  F.  M.  Willich,  published  in  1798.  The  best  account,  however, 
hitherto,  is  that  of  BIr.  Wirgman — “ Principles  of  the  Kantesian  or  Transcendental 
Philosophy.”  London,  1834 


GERMAN  IDEALISM. 


177 


For  some  few  years  after  the  publication  of  the  “Critick  of 
Pure  Reason”  in  1781,  it  excited  but  little  attention,  owing  prob- 
ably, in  a great  measure,  to  the  difficulty  and  the  novelty  of  the 
verbiage  that  was  employed  in  it.  No  sooner,  however,  did  its  real 
merits  begin  to  appear,  than  it  took  the  most  extraordinary  hold 
on  the  public  mind,  won  its  way  into  all  the  universities,  and  made 
a complete  conquest  over  the  various  dogmatical  and  eclectic 
systems,  which  had  been  in  vogue  before  its  appearance.  This 
conquest,  it  may  easily  be  imagined,  was  not  gained  without  a hard 
struggle — in  fact,  never  during  the  history  of  philosophy,  have  so 
many  acute  thinkers  sprung  forth  at  once  into  the  field  as  under 
the  first  excitement  of  the  Kantian  metaphysics.  Many  there 
were,  who  ranged  themselves  on  the  side  of  Kant,  and  sought  by 
all  means  to  establish  and  confirm  his  main  principles ; others  there 
were  who  attacked  them,  part  of  whom  belonged  to  the  Wolfian 
sohool,  and  part,  (as  for  example,  Weisshaupt,  Tittel,  and  Tiede- 
mann,)  rather  to  that  of  Locke.  There  arose,  also,  as  usual,  from 
the  contest,  some  bold  manifestations  on  the  side  of  scepticism  and 
mysticism,  of  which  we  can  at  present  say  nothing,  but  which  will 
be  further  noticed  in  their  place. 

Whilst,  however,  this  combat  was  going  on,  there  appeared  a 
few  superior  thinkers,  who  sought  to  perfect  the  Kantian  theory, 
by  supplying  its  deficiencies,  and  simplifying  its  foundation.  The 
most  distinguished  of  these  was  Carl  Leonhard  Reinhold,  who  sug- 
gested an  idea,  which,  though  it  did  not  meet  with  immediate  appro- 
bation, has  since  become  one  of  the  most  fruitful  germs  of  philo- 
sophical speculation.  Perceiving  that  Kant,  in  common  with 
Locke,  had  taken  for  granted  the  reality  of  our  inward  perceptions 
or  ideas  (Vorstellungen)  as  they  exist  in  our  own  consciousness, 
and  made  no  inquiry  into  the  scientific  ground  from  which  they 
spring,  he  fixed  his  mind  upon  the  one  great  idea  of  the  conscious- 
ness itself,  and  sought  to  supply  what  Kant  had  entirely  omitted,  a 
correct  theor}^  concerning  it.* 

Kant,  he  conceived,  had  probed  to  its  very  foundation  the  whole 
cognitive  or  knowing  faculty  of  man,  but  nothing  more  ; what  he 
now  sought  to  add,  was  a criticism  of  the  representational  faculty 
(Vorstellungs-vermogen),  and  thus  to  show  what  is  implied  in  the 

♦ Reinhold’s  principal  work,  “ Versuch  einer  neuen  Theorie  des  menschlichen, 
Vorstellungs-vermogen,”  in  the  clearness  and  even  popularity  of  its  style,  presents 
a striking  contrast  to  the  writings  of  Kant.  It  consists  first  of  a preface  of  great 
interest  on  the  destiny  of  the  Kantian  philosophy  up  to  his  period.  In  the  first  book  he 
points  out  the  necessity  of  a new  research  into  the  representational  faculty ; in  the 

12 


178 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


process,  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  represent  ideas  to  our  own 
inward  consciousness.  In  this  process,  he  contended,  we  are  cog- 
nizant of  three  things — the  perceiving  mind,  the  thing  perceived, 
and  the  perception  itself,  which  goes  between  them,  and  exists  only 
us  the  result  of  the  union  of  the  other  two  elements.  As  all  our 
knowledge  must  consist  in  ideas.  Reinhold  proposed  by  this  analysis 
to  lay  hold  upon  the  one  fundamental  principle  from  which  all 
truth  must  spring,  and  in  which  the  theoretical  and  practical  reason 
of  Kant  are  alike  grounded.  The  appeal  which  he  thus  made  to 
our  immediate  consciousness  as  the  very  first  and  surest  ground 
from  which  we  can  start,  and  the  relation  which  he  sought  to 
establish  between  what  is  subjective  and  what  is  objective  in  it, 
though  it  was  all  intended  to  complete  the  Kantian  system,  yet 
gave  the  first  hint  at  a great  principle,  which  soon  showed  itself 
altogether  opposed  to  the  critical  philosophy,  and  became  the 
foundation  of  that  peculiar  method  of  metaphysical  research,  which 
will  hereafter  claim  much  of  our  attention  in  considering  the  more 
modern  idealism  of  Germany.  Reinhold  himself,  it  is  true,  after  a 
time,  gave  up  his  own  theory,  but  he  only  forsook  it  to  adopt  that 
of  Fichte,  to  whose  system,  in  fact,  he  had  himself  not  a little  con- 
tributed. 

In  closing  this  sketch  of  the  German  idealistic  tendency,  let  us 
look  for  a moment  at  the  steps  through  which  it  has  passed,  and  at 
the  point  to  which  it  has  arrived.  Leibnitz,  the  great  founder, 
gave  it  its  first  rationalistic  direction,  and  set  the  example  of  a bold 
speculation  upon  matters,  which  lie  beyond  the  ordinary  range  of 
philosophical  investigation.  Wolf  systematized  the  different  the- 
ories which  Leibnitz  had  proposed,  and  afforded  a complete  classi- 
fication of  the  objects  of  metaphysical  research.  Kant  next  arose 
from  the  Leibnitzian-Wolfian  school,  and  laid  a new  foundation 
for  philosophy,  upon  the  twofold  ground  of  the  pure  and  the  prac- 
tical reason,  making  scientific  knowledge  almost  entirely  subjective. 
Reinhold  next  endeavored  to  unite  these  two  fundamental  princi- 
ples into  one,  by  appealing  to  the  human  consciousness  as  the  ulti- 
mate basis  of  both.  It  needed  but  one  more  effort  to  close  the  door 
upon  all  objective  philosophy  ; to  prevent  any  scientific  transition 
from  our  own  consciousness  to  the  world  without ; to  make  the  me 
at  once  the  foundation  and  the  author  of  all  our  knowledge ; and 
so  to  complete  that  superstructure  of  subjective  idealism,  which 

second,  he  gives  his  own  theory  upon  it;  and  in  the  third,  deduces  from  that  theory  the 
laws  of  human  knowledge. 


SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 


179 


was  already  so  vigorously  commenced.  This  last  step,  though  it 
was  taken  within  the  limits  of  the  eighteenth  century,  yet,  in  all  its 
important  results,  belongs  to  the  nineteenth,  and  its  consideration 
must,  therefore,  be  reserved  until  we  come  to  the  philosophical 
characteristics  of  the  present  age. 


Sect.  IV. — Scottish  Philosophy. 

After  the  review  we  have  now  taken  of  the  busy  scene  that  was 
transacted  on  the  soil  of  Germany  during  the  closing  period  of  the 
seventeenth,  and  throughout  the  whole  of  the  eighteenth  centuries, 
we  now  return  to  our  own  country,  where  we  we  have  to  mark  the 
origin  and  progress  of  a school  of  philosophy,  which,  though  by  no 
means  imposing  in  its  appearance,  or  bold  in  its  speculations,  has 
produced  valuable  results  in  the  department  both  of  metaphysics 
and  morals,  and  borne  the  fruits  of  much  sound  and  healthy  think- 
ing. We  arrange  the  philosophy  of  Scotland,  to  which  we  now 
allude,  under  the  present  chapter,  not  because  it  ever  trod  at  all 
closely  upon  the  borders  of  pure  idealism,  or  is  ever  likely  to  do  so, 
(since,  indeed,  it  has  been  one  of  its  most  successful  combatants ;) 
but  because  its  tendency  has  ever  been  to  repress  the  advancing 
sensationalism  of  the  followers  of  Locke,  and  to  point  to  some  ulti- 
mate principles  or  laws  of  thought,  which  exist  in  the  mind,  alto- 
gether distinct  from  its  connection  with  the  material  world. 

It  was  Francis  Hutcheson  (born  in  Ireland  in  the  year  1694) 
who  had  the  merit  of  reviving  in  Scotland  the  cultivation  of  spec- 
ulative philosophy,  after  a slumber  of  many  centuries.*  His  prin- 
ciples appear,  in  common  with  most  metaphysical  thinkers  of  his 
day,  to  have  been  originally  founded  upon  the  principles  of  Locke ; 
and  he  never,  indeed,  can  be  said  to  have  departed  very  widely 
from  it  during  his  whole  life.  Notwithstanding  this,  however,  he 
left  behind  in  his  writings  many  sentiments  which,  when  matured 
and  expanded,  were  certain  to  stand  in  direct  opposition  to  the  in- 
creasing materialism  of  the  school  to  which  he  at  first  professedly 
belonged. 

His  first  work  was  an  “ Enquiry  into  the  Original  of  our  Ideas 
of  Beauty  and  Virtue,”  in  which  he  maintains,  that,  in  addition  to 

* Hutcheson’s  predecessor  at  Glasgow  was  Prof.  Gerschom  Carmichael,  of  whom 
Sir  W.  Hamilton  remarks — “ Carmichael  may  be  regarded  on  good  grounds  as  the  real 
founder  of  the  Scottish  school  of  philosophy.” — Reid’s  collected  writings,  p.  30.  He  is 
chiefly  known  as  a commentator  on  Puffendorf 


180 


MODERN  PKILOSOPHY. 


the  five  external  senses  (to  which  Locke  attributes  primarily  the 
origin  of  all  our  ideas,)  we  possess  also  certain  internal  senses,  one 
of  which  gives  rise  to  the  various  emotions  of  beauty  and  sublimity, 
introducing  us  thus  into  the  province  of  aesthetics,  while  another 
gives  rise  to  the  moral  feelings.  This  supposition  of  internal  senses, 
although  it  kept  up  the  language  of  sensationalism,  was  evidently 
equivalent  to  the  adoption  of  a new,  and  that  an  inward  source  of 
ideas,  and  thus  formed  the  first  step  which  was  taken  by  the  Scotch 
philosophy  towards  a sounder  theory  of  human  knowledge.  In  his 
metaphysics  (Synopsis  Metaphysica  Ontologiam  et  Pneumatologiam 
continens)  he  shows  similar  signs  of  a revolt  from  the  authority 
of  Locke,  by  maintaining  the  existence  of  certain  metaphysical 
axioms,  which  are  derived,  not  from  experience,  but  from  the  con- 
nate power  of  the  understanding  (Menti  congenita  intelligendi  vis). 
It  is  abundantly  evident,  therefore,  that  this  acute,  honest,  and  ele- 
gant writer  perceived  the  existence  of  certain  elements  in  human 
thought,  that  cannot,  in  any  true  sense,  be  termed  experimental ; 
and,  although  he  did  not  reduce  his  views  to  a distinct  and  syste- 
matic form,  yet  he  turned  the  attention  of  his  successors  to  the 
weak  side  of  the  current  philosophy,  and  struck  out  the  first  idea 
of  a better  and  a more  satisfactory  system.* 

It  w'as  during  the  early  periods  of  Hutcheson’s  career,  that  Scot- 
land gave  birth  to  two  minds  of  a very  different  order  indeed,  but 
both  destined  to  acquire  a European  reputation,  and  to  exert  a very 
considerable  influence  upon  their  age.  David  Hume  was  born  in 
the  year  1711,  and  although  he  is  by  no  means  to  be  classed  either 
with  the  Scotch  or  English  school  of  philosophy,  yet  we  just  men- 
tion his  name,  in  passing,  as  belonging  to  this  period,  inasmuch  as 
the  succeeding  progress  of  speculative  philosophy  in  Scotland,  as 
well  as  in  some  other  countries,  was  in  no  small  degree  owing  to 
his  writings. 

Leaving,  then,  with  this  bare  reference,  the  further  consideration 
of  Hume’s  sceptical  principles  to  the  next  chapter,  we  proceed  to 
mention  the  other  author  above  referred  to — I mean  Adam  Smith, 

* Hutclieson  was  the  son  of  a Presbyterian  minister,  and  was  originally  intended  for 
the  same  profession.  His  first  work  (published  1720)  on  the  “ Original  of  Beauty  and 
Virtue,’’  gained  him  the  friendship  of  Archbishop  King,  (the  author  of  the  woi'k  on  the 
“Origin  of  Evil;’’)  and  probably  decided  his  future  course.  In  1828  he  published  a 
tecond  Treatise  on  the  “ Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions,”  which  was  followed  by 
his  being  chosen  Prof  of  Moral  Phil,  in  Glasgow.  His  “ Synopsis  Metaphysic®,”  and 
“ Philosophiffi  Moralis  Institutio,”  were  written  as  text-books  for  the  class.  His  most 
complete  and  elaborate  work,  entitled  “ System  of  Moral  Philosophy,”  appeared  after 
liis  death.  ■ The  views  which  are  therein  propounded  on  the  nature  of  virtue,  &c., 
follow  closely  those  of  Shaftesbury.  An  interesting  biography  of  the  author  is  appended, 
by  Dr.  Leechrnan. 


SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 


181 


the  father  of  political  science,  who  was  born  at  Kirkaldy,  a.  d. 
1725.  The  reputation  of  this  celebrated  author  rests  chiefly  upon 
his  “ Enquiry  itito  the  Wealth  of  Nations,”  (a  department  of  science 
with  which  we  have  at  present  nothing  to  do ;)  his  name,  however, 
has  found  a lasting  place  amongst  pure  philosophical  writers  from 
his  well-known  “ Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments.”*  Smith  may  be 
regarded  as  the  first  great  investigator  of  Man’s  sympathetic  affec- 
tions ; for,  although  it  is  probable  that  he  hardly  found  a single 
mind  ready  to  coincide  in  his  view  of  the  moral  sentiments  as 
arising  from  this  source,  yet  it  is  pretty  certain  that  there  never  was 
an  intelligent  reader  who  arose  from  the  perusal  of  his  work  with- 
out admiring  the  beauty  of  the  analysis,  and  being  enlightened  by 
many  side-views  it  affords  us  of  the  complicated  working  of  the 
human  feelings.  It  is  true  we  should  not  attribute  to  Smith  the 
merit  of  taking  any  decisive  step  in  speculative  philosophy,  or  of 
aiding,  by  any  direct  results,  its  further  development ; but  by  the 
brightness  of  his  genius,  the  elegance  of  his  mind,  and  the  charm 
of  his  style,  he  gave  a very  decided  spur  to  the  pursuit  of  philoso- 
phy generally,  and  filled  a place  in  the  metaphysical  history  of  his 
country,  which  must  ever  be  taken  into  consideration,  if  we  would 
estimate  the  whole  progress  of  that  history  aright.f 

But  the  coryphasus  of  the  rising  school  of  Scotch  metaphysics 
was  Dr.  Reid,  who  was  born  at  Strachan,  April  26th,  1710.  The 
philosophy  of  Reid  is  too  well  known  in  this  country  to  need  here 
any  lengthy  analysis,  and  we  shall  therefore  only  devote  a very 
few  pages,  in  order  to  explain  the  spirit  in  which  it  commenced, 
the  principle  on  which  it  proceeded,  and  the  results  to  w'hich  we 
may  fairly  admit  that  it  has  conducted.  Notwithstanding  all  that 
Dr.  Brown  has  attempted  to  prove  to  the  contrary,!  it  must  be 
allowed  that  the  state  of  mental  philosophy  on  the  subject  of  per- 
ception up  to  the  time  of  Reid,  was,  to  say  the  least,  extremely 
indefinite  and  confused.  That  Descartes  rejected  the  ideal  system, 
as  propounded  by  Aristotle,  and  held  by  the  scholastics,  there  can 
be  no  doubt ; but  it  is  equally  clear  that  he  did  not  admit  .the  pos- 
sibility of  our  comprehending  anything  respecting  material  objects 

* The  student  who  may  not  wish  to  follow  the  development  of  this  celebrated  theory 
through  an  8vo  volume,  is  referred  to  Brown’s  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  the  Mind, 
where  in  lectures  80  and  81  he  will  find  an  elegcint  and  lucid  statement  of  the  whole 
subject. 

t The  whole  works  of  Adam  Smith  were  published  at  London  in  1812,  in  five  vols. 
8vo.  The  first  contains  his  “ Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments.”  The  next  three  vols. 
contain  the  “ Wealth  of  Nations and  the  last  comprehends  his  miscellaneous  Essays, 
with  an  account  of  his  life  and  writings  by  Dugald  Stewart. 

I Lectures  25  and  26. 


182 


MODERN  RHILOSOPHY. 


and  their  qualities,  excepting  so  far  as  our  perceptions,  in  some 
sense  or  other,  represent  those  qualities.*'  That  Locke  held  the 
same  opinion,  we  have  already  proved,  since  indeed  the  very  foun- 
dation principle  of  his  philosophy  is,  that  all  things  about  which 
the  understanding  is  convei'sant  are  ideas,  and  that  these  ideas  are 
the  subjective  representatives  of  objective  realities.  The  use 
which  Berkeley  made  of  this  doctrine,  it  is  well  known,  was  to 
shake  our  faith  in  the  existence  of  the  material  world  ; and  Hume, 
carrying  his  scepticism  one  step  further,  employed  the  very  same 
principle  to  undermine  the  whole  solid  fabric  of  human  belief,  as 
will  be  shown  more  at  large  hereafter. 

Reid,  in  his  early  life,  had  been  a complete  believer  in  this  rep- 
resentative theory,  and  had  leaned  strongly  to  Berkeleianism,  as 
the  natural  result ; but  when  Mr.  Hume’s  “ Treatise  on  Human 
Nature”  came  forth  to  the  world,  and  he  saw  the  consequences  to 
which  the  whole  theory  must  ultimately  tend,  he  began  to  inquire 
within  himself  whether  that  theory  were  really  a true  one.  This 
inquiry,  according  to  his  own  account,  he  carried  on  perpetually 
for  above  forty  years,  and  never  could  gain  any  affimative  evidence 
on  the  question,  except  the  mere  dictum  of  philosophers. f 

The  great  aim  of  Reid’s  philosophy,  then,  was  to  investigate  the 
true  theory  of  perception  ; to  controvert  the  representationalist 
hypothesis,  as  held  in  one  sense  or  another  by  almost  all  preceding 
philosophers  ; and  to  stay  the  progress  which  scepticism,  aided  by 
this  hypothesis,  was  so  rapidly  making.  The  course  which  he 
follows  in  order  to  accomplish  this  purpose  is,  first  of  all  to  prove 
that  there  is  no  possibility  of  our  tracing  the  real  process  of  sensa- 
tion and  perception  in  the  human  mind  at  all ; that  the  ideal  sys- 
tem of  Aristotle  is,  accordingly,  an  hypothesis  totally  unfounded ; 
and  that  the  modification  of  it  which  we  find  in  the  philosophy  of 
Descartes,  Locke,  and  others,  is  equally  void  of  proof.  That  there 
exists,  on  the  one  hand,  the  mind — the  subject  which  perceives — 
we  are  perfectly  conscious  ; and  that  there  exists,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  object — the  thing  which  is  perceived — we  know  by  a 
similar  testimony  ; but  that  there  exists  any  intermediate  link  or 
representation  by  which  the  two  communicate,  we  have  no  evi- 

* The  doctrine  of  occasional  causes  is  not  opposed,  as  some  assert,  (Pros.  Rev,  No. 
viii.,)  to  the  theory  of  representationalism.  Descartes  held  both ; he  held  that  divine 
power  was  employed  in  giving  us  representations  of  primary  qualities.  What  else  can 
be  the  meaning  of  his  doctrine,  that  whatever  we  find  in  our  ideas,  must  be  in  the  external 
things?  See  on  this  point  Reid’s  Essays.  Essay  II.  chap.  4.  Also  Sir  W.  Hamilton’s 
Dissertation  to  Reid’s  works,  p.  832. 

f Stewart’s  account  of  the  Life  and  Writings  of  Reid. 


SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 


183 


dence,  either  from  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  or  from  any 
other  kind  of  demonstration.  In  place,  therefore,  of  attempting  to 
account  for  the  mutual  influence  of  mind  and  matter  upon  one 
another,  he  points  us  to  certain  intuitive  and  original  principles  of 
belief,  which  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  without  incurring  the  charge 
of  absurdity.  When,  for  example,  we  see  a house  or  a tree,  we 
not  only  have  the  simple  apprehension  of  a phenomenon  by  virtue 
of  the  sensation  produced,  but  we  are  led,  by  the  very  nature  of 
the  mind,  to  form  certain  judgments  respecting  it,  such  as — that 
an  object  really  exists,  that  it  has  a certain  form,  and  is  of  a given 
magnitude,  &c.,  judgments  which  are  necessarily  implied  in,  and 
united  to  the  sensation  itself,  and  which,  according  to  our  con- 
stitution, we  cannot  possibly  reject.  These  original  and  irresist- 
ible judgments,  he  maintains,  are  a part  of  the  natural  furniture  of 
the  understanding ; they  are  as  certain  and  immediate  as  our 
simple  notions  themselves,  and  altogether  make  up  what  is  called 
the  “ common  sense  of  mankind^  From  this  phraseolqgy  the  philos- 
ophy of  Reid  has  been  called  the  philosophy  of  common  sense — a 
term  which  he  opposes  to  natural  lunacy  on  the  one  hand,  and  to 
metaphysical  lunacy,  or  pure  idealism,  on  the  other. 

There  are  few,  perhaps,  who  would  maintain  that  this  phrase- 
ology of  Reid  was  chosen  with  much  taste  or  judgment ; and  it 
is  by  no  means  to  be  regretted  that  the  subsequent  writers  of 
the  same  school  introduced  considerable  alterations  into  its  ter- 
minology.* 

After  laying  down  these  foundations,  Reid  proceeds  to  enume- 
rate all  the  principles  of  common  sense,  that  is,  all  our  primary 
beliefs ; controverts,  by  their  means,  the  scepticism  of  Hume  ; 
fixes  the  proper  boundaries  of  human  knowledge ; and  ends  by 
applying  his  principles  to  the  analysis  of  the  active  powers  and  the 
moral  feelings.  Such  is,  in  brief,  the  statement  (and  we  believe  a 
correct  one)  of  the  object  and  the  main  principles  of  Dr.  Reid’s 
mental  philosophy.! 

* The  phraseology  of  the  “ common  sense”  philosophy,  has  been  vindicated  with 
great  learning  by  Sir  W.  Hamilton.  He  enumerates  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  six 
witnesses,  taken  moreover  from  the  first  names  in  the  history  of  philosophy,  who  support 
either  the  same  terminology,  or  what  is  equivalent  to  it. — Reid’s  Writings,  Note  A.  § 6. 

Reid’s  first  work,  entitled  “ An  Enquiry  into  the  Human  Mind  on  the  principles  of 
Common  Sense,”  is  generally  considered  the  best  in  point  of  style  and  concentration  of 
ideas.  Being  written  when  he  was  comparatively  young,  (published  in  1764,)  it  is  not 
regarded  as  containing  the  mature  view  of  his  philosophy.  Tift  imputation  of  this 
Treatise  raised  him  to  the  chair  of  moral  philosojihy  in  Glasgow.  His  Essays  on  the 
Intellectual  Powers  were  published  in  1785.  They  contain  the  same  theory  of  percep- 
tion and  of  instinctive  beliefs  which  is  found  in  the  former  volume,  more  fully  developed, 
together  with  an  analysis  of  our  other  intellectual  powers.  The  essays  on  the  active 


184 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Now,  in  attempting  to  estimate  the  merits  of  Reid  as  a meta- 
physician, and  the  results  to  which  he  has  given  rise,  every  impar- 
tial critic,  we  consider,  must  give  him  credit  for  the  truly  philo- 
sophical spirit  with  which  he  commenced,  and  the  great  impor- 
tance of  the  object  which  he  had  in  view.  It  is  difficult  for  us, 
who  live  in  a day  when  the  language  of  mental  science  has  become 
so  much  more  pure  than  it  formally  was,  to  imagine  the  confusion 
of  thought  that  was  engendered  by  the  constant  use  of  the  Aristo- 
telian and  scholastic  terms  respecting  ideas,  as  the  sole  objects  of 
human  knowledge.  The  proper  fixing  of  all  such  terms,  and  of 
the  real  meaning  we  must  attach  to  them,  is  assuredly  not  one  of 
the  least  advantages  which  Dr.  Reid  conferred  upon  the  philoso- 
phy of  his  day,  and  of  which  we  are  now  reaping  the  fruits.* 

The  great  question,  however,  now  to  he  considered  is,  whether 
or  not  Reid  has  completely  analyzed,  and  placed  upon  their  true 
and  ultimate  basis,  the  phenomena  of  perception ; and  whether  he 
has  scientifically  established,  without  the  possibility  of  a doubt,  for 
all  future  generations,  a philosophical  passage  into  the  external 
world.  The  appeal  he  makes  to  common  sense,  i.  e.  to  those  prin- 
ciples of  belief,  upon  which  we  are  compelled  to  act  at  the  peril  of 
being  considered  madmen,  and  which  the  most  rigid  sceptic,  what- 
ever be  his  theory,  is  obliged  in  practice  to  allow,  was  unquestion- 
ably a most  powerful  one,  and  succeeded  in  driving  scepticism 
from  one  stronghold  to  another,  however  reluctant  it  might  be  to 
yield  them. 

We  doubt,  however,  whether  such  an  appeal  is  able  to  dislodge 
the  enemy  from  his  last  and  strongest  defence.  The  sceptic,  be  it 
observed,  is  equally  ready  with  ourselves  to  admit,  that  common 
sense  always  takes  its  stand  upon  the  real  existence  of  an  outward 
object  in  perception,  and  that  we  must  all  practically  act  upon  the 
belief  of  it : but  what  he  denies  is,  that  this  common  sense  is  theo- 
retically to  be  depended  upon,  since  in  some  cases,  which  he  is  not 
slow  to  mention,  it  appears  manifestly  to  be  in  error.  To  this  the 
disciple  of  Reid  can  reply,  that  there  is  precisely  the  same  authority 
to  be  attached  to  the  conclusion  of  common  sense  respecting  the 
real  existence  of  the  material  world,  as  to  any  other  dictate  of  the 

powers  appeared  in  1 788,  and  comprehend  the  range  of  moral  philosophy.  The  great 
fault  of  these  essays,  as  containing  a psychology,  is  their  defective  analysis.  Many 
phenomena  are  left  to  stand  as  primary  facts,  which  can  easily  be  resolved  into  some 
general  law  or  principle ; but  Reid  felt  that,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  age,  he  was 
erring  on  the  safe  side. 

* See  his  Intellectual  Powers,  Essay  II. 


SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 


185 


human  understanding ; and  that,  if  we  deny  that  conclusion,  we 
may  equally  deny  every  fact  of  our  own  consciottsness. 

Upon  this,  then,  the  sceptic  betakes  himself  to  his  last  refuge, 
and  urges,  with  no  little  force,  that  although  we  must  admit  the 
reality  of  our  own  personal  or  subjective  ideas,  inasmuch  as  they 
are  a part  of  our  own  inward  experience,  yet  it  still  remains  to  be 
proved,  that  our  perceptions,  however  clear,  and  our  beliefs,  how- 
ever strong  they  may  be  internally,  have  reference  to  any  object 
out  of,  and  distinct  from  ourselves.  The  sceptic  thus  intrenches 
himself  within  his  own  subjectivity,  and  though  closely  pressed  and 
circumscribed  by  the  energetic  conclusions  of  common  sense,  yet 
sternly  refuses  to  yield  this  his  last  point. 

Reid  deprived  himself  of  the  power  of  answering  this  final  argu- 
ment, by  maintaining  that  perception  is  altogether  an  act  of  the 
mind;  for  so  long  as  we  admit  with  him  that  this  is  really  the  case, 
it  remains  yet  to  be  shown,  how  we  can  possibly  avoid  the  above 
conclusion  in  which  the  sceptic  persists.  If  the  mind  has  power 
to  perceive  any  object  purely  by  its  own  act,  there  is  no  absurdity 
in  supposing  the  possibility  of  its  producing  within  itself  the  same 
effect,  without  the  actual  presence  or  existence  of  the  object.  It 
is  true  that  common  sense  renders  it  highly  improbable  that  such 
should  be  the  case  ; yet  still  so  long  as  perception  is  regarded  as  a 
subjective  process,  and  an  idea  defined  to  be  the  act  of  the  mind  in 
making  itself  acquainted  with  the  phenomena  of  external  things, 
we  are  unable  to  point  out  to  the  sceptic  what  he  demands — 
namely,  a clear  passage  from  this  subjective  activity  of  the  mind  to 
the  outward  and  material  reality.* 

The  position  that  we  must  assume,  if  we  would  complete  what 
Reid  so  nobly  commenced,  is,  that  the  very  essence  of  perception 
consists  in  a felt  relation  between  mind  and  matter,  that  instead 
of  being  wholly  the  act  of  the  mind,  it  is  the  union  of  the  subjec- 
tive and  the  objective,  necessarily  arising  from  man’s  constitution 
as  a being  composed  of  soul  and  body.  If  you  look  to  the  acts  of 
the  will,  you  feel  them  to  be  purely  personal  or  subjective  ; — if  you 
look  to  an  act  of  the  reason,  you  feel  that  it  refers  simply  to  ab- 
stract truth,  which  the  mind  of  itself  could  work  out ; but  if  you 
analyze  a perception  you  at  once  detect  in  it  another  element, 

* Reid’s  error  becomes  the  more  manifest,  when  we  hear  him  calling  perception  a 
notion,  a conception,  a conclusion,  &c. ; or  when  we  read  of  perception  being  applicable 
to  distant  realities,  and  objects  of  memory.  This  is  in  fact  breaking  down  the  very  dis- 
tinction between  intellection  and  intuition,  between  presentative  and  representative 
knowledge,  which  it  was  his  main  object  to  make  good.  On  this  see  Sir  W.  Hamilton’s 

Reid,”  Note  D.*  sec.  iv. 


186 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which  does  not  depend  upon  the  will  or  the  reason,  but  upon  some 
other  existence  out  of,  and  distinct  from  ourselves  ; so  that  percep- 
tion, instead  of  being  an  operation  of  the  mind,  as  Reid  regarded 
it,  is,  in  fact,  an  intuitive  felt  relation  between  self  and  nature,  be- 
tween the  me  and  the  not-me.  The  one  of  these  related  terms  is, 
in  truth,  as  much  given  in  every  act  of  perception  as  the  other, 
neither  can  we  abstract  either  the  subject  or  the  object  without 
destroying  the  very  essence  of  the  thing  itself. 

It  is  this  felt  relation  which  probably  suggested,  and  which  for 
so  many  centuries  kept  alive  the  notion,  that  there  was  some  link, 
material  or  spiritual,  by  which  the  objective  and  the  subjective  in 
nature  were  united ; a link  which  Reid  powerfully  demonstrated 
to  have  no  reality,  and  the  supposition  of  which  is  rendered  alto- 
gether unnecessary  when  we  regard  perception,  as  the  relation 
which  we  feel  to  exist  between  our  own  minds  and  the  external 
world.  This,  therefore,  we  consider  as  the  scientific  or  theoretical 
form  of  the  doctrine  of  immediate  perception,  which  the  Scottish 
philosopher  rested  simply  on  the  ground  of  a practical  belief,  and 
denominated  a principle  of  common  sense.* 

Against  Mr.  Hume’s  attack  upon  the  idea  of  causality,  and  his 
attempt  to  invalidate  the  proof  thence  derived  for  the  existence  of 
God,  Reid  appears  to  us  to  have  dealt  a more  complete  and  effec- 
tive blow,  than  he  did  against  his  argument  respecting  the  material 
world.  Hume  first  assumed  experience  as  the  sole  foundation  for- 
our  knowledge,  and  then  of  course  easily  demonstrated,  that  super- 

* To  see  the  principal  points  of  this  Critique  more  fully  developed  and  eloquently 
stated,  the  student  may  consult  Cousin’s  “ Cours  de  la  Philosophic  Morale,”  Lefons  7 
and  8.  Against  this  view  of  the  case,  Dr.  Chalmers  (North  British  Rev.,  Feb.  1847) 
objects,  that  in  childhood  there  is  perception,  but  no  reflex  view  of  self,  no  relation 
felt  between  the  me  and  the  not-me.  The  Doctor  forgets  that  it  is  a part  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  spontaneous  development  of  the  mind,  (a  doctrine  which  he  expressly 
admits,  p.  297,)  that  every  element  which  afterwards  enters  into  our  reflective  life,  was 
originally  at  work  in  the  spontaneous.  It  is  very  clear  that  the  child  has,  at  first,  no 
rejlectixe  consciousness  of  the  elements  of  perception,  or  indeed  of  anything  else,  but 
this  is  no  argument  against  those  elements  being  actually  there.  Sunk  as  he  may  be 
in  the  object,  yet  the  whole  process  logically  implies  the  subject,  which  in  fact  is  never 
for  a single  moment  lost  sight  of,  as  the  conscious  unity,  in  which  all  our  apperceptions 
find  their  synthesis.  To  suppose  the  subject  actvally  lost  in  the  object,  would  be  to  sup- 
pose the  loss  of  the  sense  of  personality.  The  very  idea  of  presentative  knowledge,  is 
that  of  subject  and  object,  standing  immediately  face  to  face,  without  even  a notion  or 
conception  between  them. 

I ha  ve  just  had  the  good  fortune  to  consult  Sir  W.  Hamilton’s  most  masterly  notes  upon 
this  subject,  and  I cannot  see  that  the  view  of  perception  there  given,  essentially  differs 
from  the  above,  except  in  its  fuller  and  richer  scientific  development.  He  regards  the 
human  organism  as  the  great  field  of  perception.  And  what  is  the  organism  I “ A 
material  svbjed.”  It  is  just  the  region  in  which  self  and  not  self,  subject  and  object, 
mysteriously  blend,  and  by  that  blending,  place  themselves  in  immediate  communica- 
tion. What  then  is  perception,  but  the  expression  of  that  relation, — the  attributes  of 
the  material,  placed  consciously  side  by  side  with  the  personality  of  the  spiritual"? 


SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 


187 


sensual  ideas,  like  that  of  cause,  or  of  the  Deity,  can  have  no  real 
basis  whatever  in  fact.  Reid  denied  that  experience  is  the  only 
source  from  which  truth  can  be  derived,  but  pointed  out  the  ex- 
istence of  certain  intellectual  and  necessary  judgments  beyond  the 
bounds  of  all  experience,  and  proved  that  the  belief  in  a sufficient 
cause,  wherever  we  observe  an  effect,  is  one  of  them.  It  is  true 
he  did  not  probe  the  whole  question  of  our  instructive  beliefs  to  its 
centre,  but,  nevertheless,  he  established  their  reality  on  so  solid  a 
basis,  that  the  truth  which  they  convey  was  shown  to  be  as  valid 
as  any  ordinary  evidence  could  make  it.  A more  subtile  analysis 
of  the  first  principles  of  human  knowledge  might  certainly  have 
placed  these  beliefs  in  a clearer  light,  and  reduced  them  to  a smaller 
compass ; but  the  only  effect  of  this  would  have  been,  to  give  them 
a more  scientific  character  than  was  done  by  the  rough  sketch 
which  Reid  left  behind  him,  and  not  to  alter  materially  the  drift 
of  his  main  argument.* 

Whatever  objections,  therefore,  might  be  brought  against  the 
philosophy  of  common  sense,  we  conceive  that  they  must  be  for 
the  most  part  negative.  That  Reid  has  done  much  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  mental  science,  is  almost  universally  admitted  ; to 
complain  that  he  did  not  accomplish  more,  or  follow  out  the  track 
which  he  opened  to  its  furthest  results,  is  perhaps  unreasonable  ; 
since  we  ought  rather  to  look  for  the  completion  of  his  labors  from 
the  hands  of  his  followers,  than  demand  from  himself  at  once  the 
foundation  and  the  superstructure. 

We  cannot  but  regard  it,  however,  as  unfortunate,  that  Reid 
should  have  framed  his  idea  of  philosophy  so  completely  upon  the 
model  of  the  natural  sciences,  that  he  should  have  determined  to 
confine  it  almost  entirely  within  the  narrow  limits  of  psychology, 
and  attempt  little  beyond  the  mere  classification  and  establishment 
of  internal  phenomena.  The  psychological  method,  which  he  fol- 
lowed, we  regard  as  excellent,  nay,  as  the  only  true  one,  since  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  determine  the  power  and  validity  of  the 
instrument  by  which  all  our  knowledge  is  acquired,  before  we  de- 
fine what  that  knowledge  is,  and  to  what  extent  it  can  reach. 
But  by  making  philosophy  too  exclusively  the  science  of  internal 

* Kant  reproached  Reid  with  mistakintr  the  very  difficulty  which  Hume  wished  to 
have  alleviated.  He  supposed  that  Reid  simply  took  his  stand  upon  t/ie  fact,  that 
causation  is  practically  admitted  by  all  men,  and  did  nothing  towards  elucidating  the 
origin  of  the  idea.  It  should  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  Reid  applied  the  very 
same  tests  as  Kant  himself,  those  of  universality  and  necessity,  by  which,  to  prove 
the  validity,of  the  category,  and  show  it  to  lie  imbosomed  in  the  very  centre  of  our 
constitution. 


188 


MODERN  rniLOSOi'IIV. 


facts,  by  placing  it  in  co-ordination  with  other  distinct  branches  of 
human  research,  by  separating  it  virtually  from  the  rest  of  our 
knowledge,  instead  of  placing  it  at  the  foundation  of  it  all,  he  gave 
rise  to  that  philosophical  tendency,  which  has  since  virtually  ex- 
cluded many  of  the  most  important  questions  from  the  investiga- 
tion of  the  Scottish  metaphysicians.  There  are  links  of  connec- 
tion which  unite  the  science  of  internal  phenomena  with  a far 
wider  field  of  research.  The  close  intercourse  which  exists  be- 
tween the  human  organism  and  the  soul,  makes  it  necessary  to  take 
under  consideration  many  physical  phenomena  as  illustrative  of  the 
phenomena  of  consciousness.  In  the  wondrous  fact  of  muscular 
exertion,  we  see  force  and  matter,  the  subject  and  object,  brought 
into  direct  co-operation — a co-operation  which  leads  us  to  conceive 
and  develop  the  great  idea  of  'power  in  its  origin  and  its  effects. 
From  this  point  of  observation,  we  are  led  into  the  realms  of  na- 
ture. Power  there  is  there,  for  how  else  can  we  conceive  of  the 
endless  succession  of  operations,  which  are  going  forward  around 
us  ? Neither  is  nature  a lifeless  mechanism.  Fraught  with  the 
great  ideas  which  spiritual  contemplation  affords,  we  approach  na- 
ture as  essentially  a system  of  living  forces,  embodying  in  its  forms 
and  processes  the  thoughts  of  a vast  and  eternal  mind.  Taking 
wing  from  this  thought,  we  soar  above  the  soul  and  nature  alike, 
to  the  great  centre  of  all  power — the  great  moral  exemplar  of  all 
mind — to  God  himself  Looking  down  from  that  elevation,  we 
again  scan  the  realms  of  creation  with  a new  light  upon  them — 
we  see  thought  exhibited  in  the  very  lowest  organic  structure — 
and  trace  it  becoming  more  expressive  of  form  and  beauty  in  the 
plant.  In  the  animal  kingdom  we  see  it  exhibiting  a still  more 
distinct  purpose — and  at  length,  in  man,  giving  an  image  of  the 
very  mind  from  which  it  sprang.  History  develops  the  infinite  in 
man  still  further ; and  religion,  in  its  onward  progress  as  a divine 
life,  seeks  to  make  its  expression  more  pure  and  perfect,  till  in  the 
new  creation  the  divine  nature  shall  shine  forth  from  the  very 
mainspring  and  energy  of  the  human  will.  By  separating,  on  the 
contrary,  the  realms  of  human  contemplation  from  each  other,  they 
lose  their  deepest  significancy.  We  look  then  upon  mind  as  a se- 
ries of  facts,  the  clue  to  whose  right  understanding  is  lost  by  their 
entire  isolation  from  everything  else  in  which  the  divine  thought 
expi'esses  itself  We  look  upon  nature  as  a wondrous  dance  of 
atoms  ; but,  separated  from  mind,  we  see  not  that  every  beauteous 
form  is  the  articulate  expressfon  of  some  great  idea  ; yea,  and 


SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 


189 


when  we  look  up  beyond  the  creation  to  Deity  itself,  we  are 
chilled  by  our  utter  isolation,  until  w'e  begin  to  perceive  the  divine 
thinking,  all  within  and  around,  and  learn  of  a truth  “ that  He  is 
not  far  from  every  one  of  us.”  In  this  way,  then,  we  would  seek 
to  rise  into  a loftier  region  of  thought,  to  a kind  of  “ prima  philo- 
sophia,”  where  the  sciences  of  mind,  of  matter,  and  of  Deity,  all 
unite  in  one. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  entirely  separating  the  investigation  of 
mental  from  that  of  all  other  phenomena,  we  should  here  perceive 
their  mutual  relations,  and  learn  to  gaze  upon  the  universe  both  of 
mind  and  matter  as  a whole,  the  one  harmonious  production  of  the 
Infinite  Intelligence.  In  this  view  of  the  case  we  should  contem- 
plate man  in  his  mysterious  connection  with  nature,  and  nature 
in  its  relation  to  humanity,  while  the  last  and  crowning  problem 
would  be,  to  show  how  they  both  subsist  in  God.  A system  em- 
bracing this  sweep  of  investigation,  might  be  termed  philosophy  in 
its  highest  sense.* 

Had  Reid  pointed  out  this  as  the  ultimate  tendency  of  meta- 
physical research,  we  believe  that  his  successors  could  have  built 
upon  such  a foundation  a noble  superstructure  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy ; but  having  discouraged  this  attempt  in  the  outset,  his 
successors  have  for  the  most  part  trodden  the  path  of  mere  psycho- 
logical observation,  until  the  science  which  might  soar  to  the  very 
noblest  efforts  of  the  human  intellect,  and  strive  to  solve  the  great 
problems  of  man,  the  universe,  and  their  Creator,  has  dwindled 
down  to  one  of  altogether  secondary  interest  in  the  hands  of  some 
of  its  more  recent  advocates,  f 

The  immediate  followers  of  Reid  accordingly,  true  to  the  senti- 
ments of  their  master,  were  chiefly  employed  in  illustrating  and 
defining  the  principles  of  common  sense  as  the  data  of  all  real  phi- 
losophy. Beattie’s  chief  merit  (independently  of  his  valuable  dis- 
quisitions on  moral  and  assthetical  subjects)  consists  in  the  clear 
distinction  he  makes  between  the  axioms  of  common  sense,  and 
the  logical  deductions  of  our  reason.  His  whole  doctrine  of  evi- 
dence, as  grounded  on  this  distinction,  contains  much  that  is 
highly  valuable  and  interesting;  but  there  is  no  analysis  of 
reason,  no  attempt  to  raise  the  science  of  thal;  which  is,  up  to  the 

* For  further  remarks  on  this  subject,  see  chap.  v.  sec.  1. 

1 1 attribute  to  this  isolation  the  great  practical  fruitlessness  of  the  Scottish  meta- 
physics. A work  begun  so  nobly  by  Reid,  when  he  took  his  stand  upon  the  central 
principles  of  human  belief,  ought  to  have  infused  long  ere  this  a new  life  into  all  the 
moral  sciences. 


190 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


higher  science  of  that  which  must  he,  nor  any  hint  at  the  very  ex- 
istence of  a deeper  principle  on  which  the  axioms  of  common 
sense  themselves  are  all  grounded. 

In  Oswald  we  see  a still  more  slavish  devotee  to  the  same  idol, 
inasmuch  as  he  makes  common  sense,  in  its  most  popular  accepta- 
tion, the  supreme  judge  in  all  philosophical  investigations ; while 
Ferguson  at  once  cuts  off  the  approach  to  a higher  metaphysical 
science,  by  laying  down  as  the  very  principle  of  all  science,  that 
human  knowledge  is  confined  entirely  to  the  observation  of  facts, 
and  the  discovery  of  general  laws,  as  the  result  of  our  induction. 
In  doing  so,  he  overlooks  altogether  the  great  truth,  that  there  are 
conceptions  by  which  alone  the  facts  are  intelligible,  and  axioms 
upon  which  the  very  process  of  induction  rests ; while  in  holding 
up  experience  as  marking  the  limits  of  our  philosophical  knowl- 
edge, he  forgets  that  there  are  laws  of  thought,  which  are  assur- 
edly prior  to  all  experience. 

If,  then,  such  a priori  laws  really  exist,  why,  we  ask,  should 
there  not  be  one  branch  of  philosophy,  whose  object  is  to  inquire 
into  them,  and  not  only  to  point  out  our  primary  or  necessary  be- 
liefs, but  to  trace  them  to  their  origin,  as  Kant  does,  in  the  actual 
forms  of  the  understanding  or  the  reason  ? We  forbear,  however, 
to  pursue  our  remarks  on  the  Scotch  philosophy  any  further  at 
present,  since  it  has  found  another,  and  perhaps  an  abler  expositor 
in  Dugald  Stewart,  whose  works  we  shall  have  another  opportu- 
nity of  criticizing,  when  we  come  to  consider  the  Scotti^  school, 
as  it  appears  upon  the  stage  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Any  fur- 
ther remarks  upon  the  deficiencies  of  Scottish  metaphysics  we 
shall  leave  for  that  occasion. 


CHAPTER  III. 


ON  THE  DIFFERENT  FORMS  OF  SCEPTICISM  AND  MYSTICISM 
WHICH  HAVE  ARISEN  OUT  OF  THE  PRECEDING 
SYSTEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

In  the  former  chapters  the  two  chief  and  opposite  methods  of 
philosophizing  have  been  at  some  length  explained,  and  the  history 
of  their  principal  movements  down  to  the  present  century  briefly 
related.  The  observation  of  outward  facts,  so  strongly  encouraged 
by  sensationalism,  has  been  shown  well  adapted  to  originate  a valid 
school  of  physical  science,  while  the  habit  of  reflection  upon  the 
inward  operations  of  the  mind,  which  is  more  commonly  nurtured 
by  idealism,  has  unquestionably  produced  in  its  turn  many  highly 
interesting  and  valuable  results  of  another  description.  Either  of 
these  systems,  however,  when  it  would  embrace  the  whole  sphere 
of  human  knowledge,  and  interdict  every  idea  which  has  not  come 
through  one  peculiar  channel,  soon  conducts  us  to  the  most  false 
and  injurious  results. 

Let  us  see  this  with  regard  to  sensationalism.  The  whole  pro- 
cess of  sensation,  we  are  conscious,  is  passive ; the  moment,  there- 
fore, we  attempt,  like  Condillac,  to  reduce  all  our  notions  to  differ- 
ent species  of  transformed  sensations,  we  virtually  deny  the  natural 
liberty  or  energy  of  the  mind,  and  make  humanity  itself  but  an  in- 
genious piece  of  mechanism,  which  is  moved  hither  and  thither  by 
forces  impressed  upon  it  from  the  outward  world.  Human  freedom 
accordingly  perishes  under  the  hands  of  a bold  sensationalism.  Nor 
is  it  alone  the  moral  nature  which  is  stripped  of  its  grandeur  by 
these  principles — the  foundations  of  truth  itself  are  likewise  under- 
mined, and  the  road  to  scepticism  prepared.  Knowledge,  which 
comes  to  us  simply  through  our  sensations,  can  have  nothing  fixed 
and  absolute  about  it.  Its  truth  must  be  relative  to  the  construc- 
tion of  our  material  organs,  and  can  never  attain  to  a necessary 
and  universal  character.  In  other  words,  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  truth,  which  may  not  at  some  time  prove  error ; so  that 
the  whole  framework  of  our  knowledge  is  rendered  insecure. 


192 


MODERN  RHILOSOPHY. 


Idealism,  on  the  contrary,  leads  us  just  as  far  from  truth  in  the 
other  direction.  Neglecting  the  peculiar  element  which  exists  in 
all  our  perceptions,  and  by  which  we  are  inseparably  linked  to  the 
material  world,  it  first  of  all  attempts  to  deduce  the  notion  of  matter 
by  a logical  process  from  our  purely  rational  ideas ; failing,  how- 
ever, to  afford  satisfaction  by  this  process,  it  begins  to  undermine 
the  validity  of  the  notion  itself,  and  ends  at  length  in  its  positive 
denial.  Both  sensationalism,  therefore,  and  idealism,  when  exclu- 
sively pursued  and  developed  to  their  furthest  results,  lead  us  into 
a labyrinth  of  error,  from  which  it  appears  impossible  for  any  phi- 
losophy to  extricate  us  : they  both  give  us  the  thread  by  which  we 
may  enter  into  the  very  centre  of  the  metaphysical  maze,  but  hav- 
ing conducted  us  there,  they  snap  it  asunder,  and  leave  us  in  per- 
plexity which  way  to  turn,  in  order  to  retrace  our  steps.  The  con- 
sequence infallibly  is,  that  philosophy  becomes  distrusted,  that  the 
conclusions  of  reason  are  set  at  nought,  and  a boastful  scepticism 
is  engendered,  which  magnifies  itself  against  all  science,  and  builds 
itself  up  upon  the  metaphysical  errors  which  it  can  deride,  but  not 
correct. 

We  would  not,  however,  assert  that  all  scepticism  is  of  this  per- 
nicious character ; for  just  in  the  same  manner  as  we  have  seen 
sensationalism  and  idealism  to  have  a good  side  as  well  as  a bad, 
so  likewise  scepticism,  when  confined  within  its  proper  limits,  has 
its  uses,  and  may  be  made  subservient  to  the  development  of  truth. 
All  that  we  desire  now  to  point  out  is  the  fact,  that  philosophical 
paradoxes,  whether  they  be  derived  from  a shallow  or  a deep  met- 
aphysical system,  have  a natural  tendency  to  shake  our  confidence 
in  the  power  and  authority  of  the  human  reason,  and  engender  a 
disposition  to  regard  scepticism  as  our  only  safeguard  against 
philosophical  conclusions,  which  we  almost  instinctively  refuse  to 
admit. 

The  fact,  however,  that  all  extremes  will  at  length  meet,  is  strik- 
ingly illustrated  in  the  case  now  before  us.  The  extreme  of  scep- 
ticism is  sure  to  lead  into  the  central  regions  of  mysticism,  the  most 
sweeping  unbelief  into  the  very  worst  follies  of  credulity.  The 
greatest  unbeliever  is  of  all  men  the.  most  credulous ; he  rejects, 
perhaps,  a thousand  truths  which  rest  upon  a solid  and  satisfactory 
evidence,  but  then  is  obliged  to  accept  some  crude  system  of  his 
own,  into  which  none  of  these  truths  (to  save  his  consistency)  are 
permitted  to  enter.  The  sceptic,  for  example,  who  denies  the  di- 
vine origin  of  Christianity,  may  often  appear,  at  first  sight,  rational 


DIFFERENT  FORMS  OF  SCEPTICISM. 


193 


in  his  objections,  so  long  as  he  is  engaged  in  pulling  down  the  com- 
mon belief  of  Christendom ; but  the  moment  he  is  called  upon  to 
build  up  a system  of  his  own,  the  moment  he  is  required  to  account 
for  the  facts  of  the  case  upon  some  other  hypothesis,  he  soon  be- 
gins to  draw  far  more  largely  than  his  opponents  upon  the  very 
credulity  which  he  has  derided.  And  not  only  this,  but  the  more 
universal  the  scepticism,  the  greater  must  be  the  credulity  by  which 
it  is  followed;  because  exactly  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  facts 
which  are  first  rejected,  must  be  the  paucity  which  are  left  behind 
on  which  to  construct  a new  system.  From  these  considerations, 
therefore,  we  can  easily  see  how  naturally,  and  almost  necessarily, 
in  the  march  of  intellectual  philosophy,  mysticism  springs  out  of 
the  spirit  of  scepticism. 

The  use  of  scepticism  is  to  check  a too  ambitious  and  rapid  gen- 
eralization, to  discover  all  the  flaws  in  the  foundations  of  human 
science,  which  might  in  time  endanger  the  safety  of  the  superstruc- 
ture ; but,  having  performed  this  duty,  it  must  cease,  and  leave  the 
completion  of  the  edifice  to  other  hands.  Instead  of  this,  the  scep- 
tical philosopher  perchance,  not  content  with  chastising  error  (his 
proper  office),  proceeds  to  construct  for  himself  a system  of  spec- 
ulative truth  : and  then  what  is  the  result  ? He  has  already  sported 
with  the  authority  of  the  human  reason,  he  has  undermined  some 
of  its  most  obvious  conclusions ; and  now  that  he  has  placed  these 
beyond  the  pale  of  certainty,  he  must  have  recourse  to  any  other 
element  by  which  he  can  supply  the  place  of  that  which  he  has 
rejected.  Such  an  element  he  finds  in  the  undefined  impulses  of 
our  spiritual  nature,  or  the  spontaneous  working  of  our  mental  in- 
stincts ; and  from  these,  accordingly,  he  seeks  to  originate  a system 
of  truth,  to  which  he  regards  the  power  of  reason  quite  unable  to 
attain,  and  which  is  rightly  attributed  to  the  workings  of  mysticism. 
It  is  the  philosophical  sceptic,  therefore,  who  first  shakes  the  confi- 
dence which  men  had  reposed  in  the  authority  of  their  I'eason ; and 
it  is  the  mystic  who,  to  supply  its  place,  introduces  that  new  ele- 
ment of  faith  or  feeling,  by  one  of  which  his  philosophy  is  always 
characterized.  The  ultimate  relationship,  however,  existing  be- 
tween these  two  movements,  will  be  better  seen  in  the  historical 
sketch  to  which  we  now  proceed.* 

• On  the  manner  in  which  scepticism  and  mysticism  sprung  out  of  the  other  philoso- 
phical extremes,  see  Cousin’s  “ Histoire  de  la  Philosophie,”  Lef  on  iv. 

13 


194 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Sect.  I. — Scepticism  and  Mysticism  on  the  Continent,  from  the  age 
of  Descartes  to  the  commencement  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  two  master-minds  who  gave  its  first  tendencies  to  the 
modern  philosophy  of  France,  were  Gassendi  and  Descartes.  The 
Gassendists,  like  Hobbes  in  our  own  country,  adopted  many  of  the 
extreme  results  of  sensationalism ; while  the  Cartesians,  as  we  have 
before  seen,  leaned  with  an  equal  partiality  to  idealism.  In  the 
contests  which  arose  between  these  two  schools,  the  weak  sides  of 
both  were  alternately  held  up  to  view,  and  the  baneful  results  ex- 
hibited, to  which  either  of  them,  if  rigidly  followed  out,  would  in- 
variably lead.  The  juncture  then  had  arrived,  at  which  scepticism 
was  needed  to  pull  down,  on  either  hand,  what  was  weak  and  un- 
satisfactory in  their  respective  principles  ; and  accordingly,  just  at 
this  juncture,  scepticism  actually  made  its  appearance,  to  perform 
the  work  assigned  it  in  the  progress  of  human  knowledge. 

Previous,  however,  to  our  bringing  the  chief  actors  in  this  scene 
before  our  attention,  there  is  one  caution  which  we  must  strongly 
impress  upon  the  mind  of  every  reader ; that  is,  not  to  confound 
theological  with  philosophical  scepticism.  By  theological  scepti- 
cism we  mean  a rejection  of  the  authority  of  natural  or  revealed 
religion ; by  philosophical  scepticism,  we  mean  a distrust  of  the 
validity  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  and  the  authority  of  the  human 
reason.  The  two  may,  in  a few  instances,  have  been  united,  as 
they  were  in  Hume ; but  in  the  great  majority  of  instances,  the 
case  is  far  otherwise.  Religious  scepticism  has,  in  fact,  more  com- 
monly than  not,  been  found  among  the  disciples  of  an  extreme  sen- 
sationalism and  idealism ; the  former  proceeding  more  frequently  to 
atheistical,  the  latter  to  pantheistical  results ; while  philosophical 
scepticism,  so  far  from  being  identified  with  this,  arises  frequently 
from  a mistaken  zeal  for  enlarging  the  authority  of  religious  faith. 

With  this  one  observation  premised,  we  now  return  to  consider 
the  different  shades  of  scepticism  and  mysticism  on  the  continent 
of  Europe,  from  the  period  to  which  we  have  just  alluded,  to  the 
opening  of  the  present  century. 

(A.)  First  Period — Originating  from  Descartes  and  Gassendi. 

The  first  school  of  philosophical  scepticism  in  France  was  pre- 
cisely of  the  nature  just  described.  Its  disciples  were,  for  the  most 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


195 


part,  ecclesiastics,  who  attempted  to  save  the  orthodoxy  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  by  impugning  the  sufficiency  of  that  reason,  by 
the  aid  of  which  the  philosophers  of  their  day  were  deducing  con- 
clusions anything  but  consistent  with  the  common  belief  of  Catholic 
Christianity.  One  of  the  most  learned  of  this  class  was  Peter 
Daniel  Huet,  Bishop  of  Avranches,  born  at  Caen,  a.d.  1630.  In 
his  early  youth,  Huet  had  been  instructed  in  the  Cartesian  philos- 
ophy, but  finding  this  unsatisfactory,  he  went  oyer  to  the  Gassen- 
dists,  in  order  to  see  if  any  of  his  difficulties  could  be  removed  by 
the  tenets  of  that  school.  Finding  many  of  their  doctrines  to  be 
in  direct  opposition  to  his  religious  faith,  he  became  altogether  dis- 
gusted with  speculative  reasoning,  and  sought  a refuge  in  philosoph- 
ical scepticism.* 

His  sceptical  opinions  may  be  stated  in  the  two  following  po- 
sitions. First,  that  although  there  may  be,  and  undoubtedly  is, 
such  a thing  as  objective  reality,  yet  the  human  reason  is  too  feeble, 
and  has  to  encounter  too  many  obstacles  in  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge,  to  be  ever  absolutely  certain,  whether  our  ideas  cor- 
respond with  that  reality  to  any  degree  of  accuracy  or  not.  Sec- 
ondly, that  the  only  principle  by  which  we  can  attain  to  certainty 
is  faith — a principle  which  lies  altogether  beyond  the  reach  of 
scepticism,  inasmuch  as  it  arises  not  from  our  natural  faculties,  but 
from  an  immediate  operation  of  the  Divine  mind 

The  chief  work  in  which  Huet’s  sceptical  principles  are  em- 
bodied, is  entitled,  “ An  Essay  concerning  the  Weakness  of  the 
Human  Understanding,”  which  was  written  about  the  year  1690, f 
to  follow  his  “ Censura  Philosophise  Cartesianse.”  The  work  is  in 
three  books,  the  first  of  which  is  intended  to  prove,  that  truth  can- 
not be  known  with  absolute  certainty  by  the  help  of  reason.  This 
position  he  strengthens  by  thirteen  arguments,  in  which  he  makes 
his  appeal  to  the  inspired  penmen,  to  the  imperfection  of  the  senses 
as  a means  of  knowledge,  to  the  insufficiency  of  the  intellectual 
powers,  to  the  impossibility  of  verifying  the  objective  validity  of 
our  subjective  ideas,  and  finally  to  the  opinion  of  all  the  most  cele- 
brated philosophers  of  antiquity.  The  second  book  makes  us  ac- 
quainted with  the  legitimate  way  of  philosophizing,  which,  he 

* In  the  preface  to  his  “ Essay  on  the  Weakness  of  the  Human  Understandinff,” 
the  author  gives  a singular  but  honest  account  of  his  ovyn  experience  in  the  search  for 
truth.  It  appears  from  the  memoirs  of  his  own  life,  that  Huet  was  introduced  into  the 
sceptical  philosophy  by  M.  Cormisy,  who  was  president  of  the  parliament  of  Aix  in 
Provence,  and  was  banished  to  Caen  by  order  of  the  court. 

•I  The  original  work  I have  not  seen,  but  have  in  my  possession  aji  excellent  Eng- 
lish translation,  by  Edw.  Combe,  A.M.,  published  in  London,  a.d.  1725. 


196 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


affirms,  is  only  found,  when  we  learn  to  supply  the  defects  of  reason 
by  the  principle  of  faith — a principle  which,  although  it  cannot 
lead  to  demonstrative  certainty,  yet  gives  us  an  evidence  of  truth 
upon  which  we  can  fully  repose.*  The  third  book  is  entirely  oc- 
cupied in  answering  seven  objections  which  he  supposes  might  be 
urged  against  his  principles.  The  whole  work  gives  us  a remark- 
able instance  of  the  union  of  philosophical  scepticism  and  religious 
credulity  in  a man  of  the  most  universal  attainments  and  profound 
understanding. 

A far  more  noted  instance,  however,  of  this  species  of  philosoph- 
ical scepticism,  mingled  at  the  same  time  with  a strong  infusion 
of  mysticism,  presents  itself  in  the  writings  of  Blaise  Pascal,  whose 
“ Thoughts”  will  be  read  as  long  as  reflection  and  piety  continue 
to  go  hand  in  hand  through  the  world. f Few  writings  of  a ten- 
dency to  depreciate  the  validity  of  the  human  reason  can  be  found, 
which  contain  so  little  that  is  objectionable,  and  (with  the  excep- 
tion of  a degree  of  unhealthy  and  morbid  melancholy)  so  much 
that  is  valuable  and  instructive,  as  these.  Pascal’s  scepticism  is 
all  aimed  against  the  abuses  of  philosophy,  which  appeared  to  him 
of  so  grave  a nature,  as  to  wring  from  him  the  taunt,  which  he 
seemed  to  adopt  almost  as  a principle,  “ Se  moquer  de  la  philoso- 
phie  c’est  vraiment  philosopher.”J  His  early  life  had  been  devoted 
to  the  eager  pursuit  of  mathematical  studies ; he  had  there  accus- 
tomed his  mind  to  look  for  demonstrative  evidence  as  being  alone 
satisfactory ; and  when,  by  some  striking  events  in  his  life,  he  was 
aroused  from  his  absorption  in  these  studies  to  contemplate  the 
gi'eat  problems  of  human  existence  and  destiny,  he  became  mani- 
festly dejected  by  the  discovery,  that  demonstration  must  on  these 
questions  be  altogether  dispensed  with.  He  required  of  philoso- 
phy that  it  should  answer  all  the  deep  inquiries  of  the  longing 
spirit  with  the  same  decisive  voice  that  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  listen  to  in  the  department  of  the  pure  sciences ; and  when  he 
found  the  voice  to  come  tremblingly  and  half  inaudibly  from  the 
inmost  soul,  he  began  impatiently  to  distrust  that  reason,  which 
failed  in  giving  satisfaction  to  his  hopes  and  expectations,  and  to 
seek  a substitute  for  it  in  revelation. 

* The  whole  theory  of  Huet  is  summed  up  in  this  sentence — “ As,  then,  in  matters  of 
faith,  faith  comes  in  to  the  aid  of  fluctuating  reason,  so  in  all  other  things  we  know 
thereby  [by  reason]  it  assists  to  assure  and  relieve  us  in  our  doubts,  and  reinstate  reason 
in  a right  it  was  divested  of ; that  is  to  say,  the  cognizance  of  truth,  which  it  naturally 
desires." — Book  II.  chap.  ii. 

f It  is  fortunate  for  the  student  of  Pascal  that  a new  edition  of  his  “ Thoughts,”  un- 
mutilated by  ignorant  editors,  has  just  been  published  under  the  careful  superintendence 
of  M.  Faugere.  Pensees,  Art.  x.  36. 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


197 


The  first  position  which  strikes  us  on  reading  the  “ Pensees,”  is 
that  which  asserts  the  natural  feebleness  and  the  many  delusions 
of  the  human  mind.  These  delusions  arise  primarily  from  the 
inward  clashing  of  the  faculties  occasioned  by  sin.  “ Les  deux 
principes  de  verite,  la  raison  et  le  sens,  outre  qu’ils  manquent  sou- 
vent  de  sincerite,  s’abusent  reciproquement  Tun  I’autre.  Les  sens 
abusent  la  raison  par  de  fausses  apparences  ; et  cette  meme  piperie, 
qu’ils  lui  apportent,  ils  la  resolvent  d’elle  a leur  tour : elle  s’en  re- 
vanche. Les  passions  de  Tame  troublent  les  sens,  et  leur  font  des 
impressions  facheuses  ; ils  mentent  et  se  trompent  a I’envi.”  Sim- 
ilar sentiments  to  these  occur  throughout  Part  I.  Art.  4,  5,  6,  11, 
and  Part  II.  Art.  1,  6.  Another  cause  of  delusion  upon  which 
great  stress  is  laid,  is  the  partial  view  we  are  obliged  to  take  of  all 
things  in  relation  to  the  universe  at  large.  Because  we  cannot 
know  the  whole,  it  is  urged  that  we  can  know  nothing  aright. 
“ Nous  sommes  sur  un  milieu  vaste,  toujours  incertains  et  flottants 
entre  I’ignorance  et  la  connaissance,  et  si  nous  pensons  aller  plus 
avant,  notre  objet  branle,  et  echappe  a nos  prises.”  Let  it  not  be 
supposed,  however,  that  Pascal  rests  satisfied  in  these  sceptical 
results.  Far  from  it.  He  felt  that  man  must  believe  something, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  repose  upon  doubt ; and  to  save  himself 
from  the  torture  of  uncertainty,  he  threw  himself,  or  attempted  to 
do  so,  into  the  arms  of  a faith,  which,  without  satisfying  the  reason, 
could  yet  give  repose  to  the  spirit  in  its  longing  after  the  infinite 
and  the  eternal.* 

Far,  indeed,  should  we  be  from  denouncing  the  appeal  which 
Pascal  makes,  on  purely  religious  questions,  from  the  authority  of 
reason  to  that  of  revelation,  as  altogether  incorrect ; for  allowing, 
as  we  do,  such  a revelation  to  exist,  an  appeal  of  that  nature  is  in 
perfect  consistency  with  the  best  light  of  reason  itself : but  it  was 
not  necessary,  when  reason  failed  to  satisfy  his  heart’s  yearnings 
after  God  and  immortality,  to  undermine  its  authority  on  all  moral 
questions  whatever.  In  doing  so,  he  doubtless  repressed  a too  bold 
speculation  within  the  region  of  theology,  but  at  the  same  time  he 
tacitly  advocated  principles,  which,  if  carried  out,  would  have 
gone  far  to  strike  at  the  root  of  the  fairest  portions  of  human 
knowledge.! 

♦ Part  II.  Art.  2,  6,  7. 

t Mr.  Hallam,  in  treating  of  Pascal,  has  attempted  to  undermine  the  force  of  his 
remarks,  by  denying  to  human  nature  an  “ intrinsic  objective  reality.”  We  cannot  but 
think  that  on  this  point  Pascal  has  the  advantage  over  his  commentator.  Humanity 
is  too  closely  knit  together  in  the  whole  of  its  moral  aspects,  not  to  he  sensible  of  per- 
turbations, propagating  themselves  like  waves  of  evil,  through  the  whole  mass. 


198 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


A similar,  but  far  less  profound  scepticism  than  that  of  Pascal, 
manifested  itself  about  the  same  time  in  Germany.  Its  importance, 
however,  is  not  sufficient  to  detain  us,  in  order  to  give  any  particu- 
lar account  of  its  advocates.  One  of  the  principal  of  these  was 
Jerome  Hirnhaim  of  Prague,  the  title  of  whose  work,  apparently, 
gives  us  almost  as  clear  a conception  of  his  philosophy  as  a perusal 
of  the  work  itself  It  runs  as  follows ; — “ De  typho  generis  hu- 
mani,  sive  de  scientiarum  humanarum  inani  et  ventoso  tumore, 
difficultate,  labilitate,  falsitate,  jactantia,  prsesumptione,  incommo- 
dis  et  periculis ; tractatus  brevis,  in  quo  etiam  vera  sapientia  a 
falsa  discernitur,  simplicitas  mundo  contempta  extollitur,  idiotis  in 
solatium,  doctis  in  cautelam  conscriptus.”  Tennemann  remarks 
of  Hirnhaim,  “ that  he  declaimed,  not  without  spirit,  against  the 
literary  vanity  and  obscurity  of  the  learned,  on  the  ground  that 
all  knowledge  was  deceptive,  and  no  axiom  of  reason  known,  that 
might  not  be  annihilated  by  revelation.  Divine  revelation,  super- 
natural grace,  and  an  inward  divine  light,  he  thought,  were  the 
only  foundations  of  certain  knowledge.”* 

The  other  authors  of  this  period  who  wrote  in  the  same  strain, 
were  such  as  by  no  means  to  require  even  a mention  in  describing 
the  historical  progress  of  philosophy ; they  consist  chiefly  of  Cath- 
olic theologians,  who  attempted  thus  early  to  repress  the  rising 
spirit  of  Protestantism,  by  undermining  the  authority  of  reason,  to 
which  it  appealed. 

Whilst  the  theologians  of  the  age  were  thus  engaged  in  repress- 
ing the  bolder  flights  of  the  human  reason,  and  advancing,  in  their 
zeal,  sentiments  detrimental  to  its  just  authority,  another  race  of 
sceptical  philosophers  arose,  who  rested  their  arguments  upon  alto- 
gether a different  foundation.  The  men  to  whom  I now  allude 
were  educated  in  the  sensational  school  of  Gassendi ; and  accord- 
ingly, instead  of  invalidating  the  powers  of  the  human  reason  in 
favor  of  religious  faith,  they  took  their  start  on  the  road  to  scepti- 
cism from  those  empirical  principles,  for  which  the  remodelled 
Epicureanism  of  the  Gassendist  was  remarkable.  Samuel  Sorbiere 
and  Simon  Foucher  both  belong  to  this  class,  the  former  of  whom 
published  a translation  of  Sextus  Empiricus,  with  notes  and  illus- 
trations ; while  the  latter  revived  the  spirit  of  the  new  academy, 

* Tennemann’s  “ Grundriss,”  sec.  342.  As  I have  not  been  able  to  gain  a personal 
knowledge  of  the  work  above  quoted,  I can  only  give  the  current  opinion  concerning 
it  in  the  histories  of  philosophy. 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


199 


and  with  its  anti-dogmatical  principles  firmly  opposed  the  views  of 
Descartes  and  Malebranche.* 

The  general  character  of  this  school  of  philosophers  was  that  of 
profound  erudition,  great  knowledge  of  history,  and  a pleasing 
combination  of  wit  and  elegance  ; without  any  claim,  however,  to 
deep  and  patient  metaphysical  thinking.  These  qualities  appeared, 
perhaps,  in  their  highest  degree,  in  the  works  of  Peter  Bayle,  whom, 
accordingly,  we  may  regard  as  the  most  perfect  type  of  the  philos- 
ophers of  this  class.  The  mind  of  Bayle  was  formed  by  nature 
to  move  in  an  orbit  of  its  own,  imbued,  as  he  seemed,  with  an  ir- 
repressible desire  of  doing  what  no  man  else  would  do,  of  thinking 
what  no  man  else  would  think,  and  of  finding  out,  by  the  most  pro- 
found research  and  unwearied  diligence,  every  paradox  that  was 
discoverable  in  the  opinions  of  others.  Accustomed  from  his  early 
youth  to  theological  stiife,  and  having  himself  tw'o  or  three  times 
crossed  the  boundary  between  Protestantism  and  Popery,  he  settled 
down  into  a fixed  aversion  to  all  dogmatism,  both  philosophical  and 
theological,  and  spent  nearly  his  whole  life  in  exposing  it  by  his 
learning,  and  satirizing  it  by  his  wit.  To  assign  to  Bayle  any  deep 
metaphysical  acumen,  would  undoubtedly  be  incorrect;  but  few 
men  ever  possessed  a more  penetrating  power  of  research  into  the 
opinions  of  other  thinkers,  and  a greater  talent  in  discovering  their 
weak  points. 

This  spirit  of  severe  criticism,  together  with  his  fondness  for  the 
philosophy  of  Montaigne,  naturally  superinduced  a tendency  to  ex- 
amine everything  with  a sceptical  eye,  and  led  him  at  length  to 
deny  the  possibility  of  obtaining  any  positive  philosophical  knowl- 
edge, that  should  defy  the  assaults  of  sceptical  ingenuity.  That 
the  human  reason  was  sufficient  to  detect  error,  however  latent,  he 
firmly  believed,  and  was  himself  one  of  the  most  illustrious  proofs 
of  his  principle ; but  so  completely  did  he  seem  moulded  to  the 
work  of  criticism  and  controversy,  that  after  having  at  one  time 
pointed  out  the  inconsistency  of  reason  with  revelation,  and  at 
another,  the  inconsistency  of  revelation  with  reason,  he  seemed  to 
rest  at  last  in  the  assurance  that  absolute  truth  is  altogether  in- 
discoverable,  and  that  we  must  get  as  near  to  it  as  we  can  by 

* These  writers  were  both  pupils  of  Francois  de  la  Mothe  le  Vayer.  Poucher  wrote 
a number  of  minor  controversial  works,  which  have  little  interest  beyond  their  age. 
His  chief  opponent  was  Mersenne,  who  wrote  his  work  entitled  “ La  Verite  des  Sci- 
ences contre  les  Sceptiques,”  chiefly  against  Poucher’s  tracts.  These  tracts  were 
afterwards  published  together,  under  the  title  “ Dissertations  sur  la  Recherche  de  la 
Verite,”  Paris,  1693.  The  best  account  I have  seen  of  him  is  in  the  “ Dictionnaire  des 
Sciences  Philosophiques,”  now  publishing  in  Paris. 


200 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


criticizing  and  correcting  the  aberrations  of  those  who  have 
sought  it. 

To  get  at  the  real  opinions  of  Bayle,  notwithstanding  the  volumi- 
nousness of  his  writings,  is  probably  impossible.  His  habit  of  con- 
cealing the  authorship  of  his  works  by  false  dates  and  other  tricks 
equally  dishonest,  was  but  the  counterpart  of  the  concealment  of 
his  real  opinions  in  those  works  themselves.  The  general  tone, 
however,  that  pervades  the  whole  of  them,  and  which  betrays  the 
real  mind  of  the  writer  more  than  his  ostensible  opinions,  was  that 
which  I have  indicated — a literary  scepticism  formed  by  the  inces- 
sant habit  of  criticism  upon  the  opinions  of  others,  and  by  the 
utter  instability  of  his  own.* 

Such  then,  in  brief,  were  the  principal  forms  which  the  sceptical 
philosophy  of  that  age  assumed.  It  first  took  its  origin  from  the 
abuses  of  the  other  systems,  and  performed  by  no  means  a useless 
part,  when,  in  correcting  those  abuses,  it  sent  back  some  of  the 
greatest  minds  of  the  day  (Leibnitz  to  wit)  to  examine  the  very 
foundations  of  human  knowledge,  and  to  lay  them  over  afresh  with 
greater  caution  and  solidity. 

From  this  brief  notice  of  the  early  scepticism  of  the  Continent, 
we  must  now  turn  to  the  mystical  elements  which  co-existed 
with  it. 

The  close  connection  between  scepticism  and  mysticism  has 
been  already  shown,  and  the  incipient  mystical  tendency,  as  it  ap- 
peared in  some  of  the  philosophers  we  have  just  mentioned,  has 
been  already  detected.  We  have  now,  however,  to  detail  the 
avowed  and  decided  efforts  which  mysticism  put  forth  to  form 
philosophical  systems,  and  to  supply  the  place  of  that  reason,  whose 
authority  was  disowned  by  the  sceptics.  Such  attempts  made 
their  appearance  almost  simultaneously  in  France  and  Germany, 
although  in  neither  country  did  they  produce  systems  of  any  supe- 
rior eminence.  Francis  Mercurius  Van  Helmont  (born  1619,  died 
1699,)  inherited  from  his  father  a strong  bias  to  the  mystical. 
Stimulated  by  the  errors  in  which  the  other  schools  appeared  in- 
volved, he  was  induced  to  make  fresh  attempts  to  combine  the  doc- 
trines of  Plato,  of  the  Cabala,  and  of  the  Bible,  into  a new  theory, 
the  chief  objects  of  which  appeared  to  be,  to  refer  both  mind  and 
matter  to  one  and  the  same  essence,  and  to  reinstate  the  Pythago- 

* To  give  a complete  account  of  the  writings  of  Bayle,  would  be  no  very  easy  matter. 
It  is  questionable  whether  the  authorship  of  all  was  ever  acknowledged,  or  even  known. 
That  by  which  he  is  best  known,  and  by  which  his  name  will  survive  the  lapse  of  ages 
to  come,  is  of  course  the  “ Dictionnaire  Historique  et  Critique.'’ 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


201 


rean  dosrina  of  transmigration.*  Marcus  Marci  of  Kronland, 
Johann  Engel  a Silesian,  and  a few  others,  followed  somewhat 
closely  in  his  footsteps  ; the  former  of  whom,  especially,  attempted 
to  bring  back  some  of  the  mystical  notions  of  antiquity,  in  a work 
entitled  “ Philosophia  vetus  Restituta.” 

In  France,  Peter  Poiret  (born  1646,  died  1719,)  advocated  a 
mystical  philosophy,  which  was  less  of  a physical,  and  far  more  of 
a moral  nature.  Opposed,  on  the  one  hand,  to  Descartes,  to  whose 
philosophy  he  had  for  some  time  been  attached,  and  on  the  other 
to  the  now  growing  opinions  of  Locke,  against  whom  he  wrote  an 
able  treatise,!  he  sought  refuge  from  the  weakness  of  the  reason 
in  faith,  as  the  legitimate  source  of  truth,  and  from  the  corruption 
of  the  will  in  grace,  as  the  source  of  all  true  virtue.  Theologi- 
cally there  are,  perhaps,  some  things  that  may  be  considered  valu- 
able in  the  writings  of  Poiret ; but  the  extension  of  his  religious 
notions  into  the  proper  boundaries  of  speculative  philosophy,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  strong  tendency  to  fanaticism,  points  him  out  to  us 
as  one  of  the  most  decided  instances  of  mysticism  in  his  age  and 
country.  Fenelon,  who  favored  that  species  of  religious  sentiment 
which  France  has  designated  by  the  term  Quietism,  may  likewise 
be  numbered  among  the  mystics  who  arose  at  this  period  of  French 
literature.  The  real  tendency  of  the  Quietist  system  is  apt  to  be 
lost  sight  of  in  the  lofty  and  imposing  spiritualism  which  it  pro- 
fesses. The  peculiarity  of  it  has  always  been  the  absorption  of  the 
will  in  passive  feeling  and  ecstasy — a doctrine  which  may  elevate 
a nature  already  pure,  but  which  in  many  is  too  apt  to  degenerate 
into  fearful  immorality.  Fenelon,  however,  like  Poiret  and  others, 
is  to  be  reckoned  amongst  the  theological  rather  than  the  philo- 
sophical phenomena  of  his  age  and  country.  J 

* Helmont  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  going  backwards  and  forwards  from 
Germany  to  England,  and  in  converse  with  the  mystics  of  both  countries.  He  pub- 
lished his  “ Paradoxical  Discourses”  at  London  in  1685.  His  chief  work,  however,  is 
entitled  “ Seder  01am,  ordo  Sseculorum;  hoc  est  historica  enarratio  doctrins  philoso- 
phicae  per  unum,  in  quo  sunt  omnia,”  (1693.)  Tennemann  says,  “ Erlehrte  vornehmlich 
eine  allgemeine  Sympathie  der  Dinge;  ein  Uebergehen  des  Geistes  und  Korpersin 
einander ; weil  beide  nur  der  Form,  nicht  dem  Wesen  nach  vershieden  sind  ; und  sich 
wie  weibhches,  und  mannliches  verhalten,  und  darum  auch  in  jedem  sichtbaren  Ges- 
chopfe  vorhanden  sind.” — Grundriss,  sec.  3‘29. 

f Fides  et  ratio  collatae  ac  suo  utraque  loco  redditae  adversus  principia  J.  Lockii, 
1707.  The  great  work  of  Poiret  is  entitled  “ Economie  de  la  Divine  Providence,” 
(1649.)  The  origin  of  Poiret’s  mysticism  appears  to  have  been  his  acquaintance  with 
the  writings  of  Mad.  Bourignon.  For  a very  interesting  account  of  the  French  mysti- 
cism of  this  age,  see  “ Foreign  Aids  to  Self-Intelligence,”  a series  of  highly  philosophi- 
cal articles  in  the  Monthly  Blagazine,  by  J.  A.  Heraud,  Esq.  On  this  subject,  see 
No.  27,  (March  1841.) 

j;  Many  glimpses  into  the  real  nature  and  tendency  of  Ouietism  are  to  be  gained 
from  a work,  not  in  other  respects  very  creditable  to  the  author’s  taste — I mean  Miche- 
let’s “ Priests,  Women,  and  families.”  While  the  author  is  far  from  doing  justice  to  the 


202 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


But  the  most  wide-spread  school  of  religious  mysticism,  which 
arose  during  the  eighteenth  century,  was  that  of  Emanuel  Swe- 
denborg. To  give  anything  approaching  to  an  adequate  view  of 
the  Swedenborgian  philosophy,  we  feel  to  be  a matter  of  great  dif- 
ficulty, and,  indeed,  in  a bi'ief  compass,  almost  impossible.  The 
difficulty  of  the  case  arises  partly  from  the  amazing  fertility  of  his 
writings,  partly  from  the  frequent  obscurity  with  which  his  thoughts 
are  expressed,  and  partly  from  the  differences  of  opinion  upon  many 
important  points,  which  exist  amongst  his  followers.  Although, 
according  to  his  own  testimony,  he  was  accustomed  from  a child 
to  think  much  upon  spiritual  things,  yet  his  earlier  manhood  seemed 
to  be  altogether  engrossed  in  scientific  pursuits.  The  results  of 
these  studies  exist  to  the  present  day  in  the  form  of  volumes  and 
tracts,  which  travel  over  almost  the  whole  surface  of  natural  his- 
tory and  science,  and  in  which  it  is  only  justice  to  say  are  found, 
more  or  less  obscurely,  many  of  the  germs  of  recent  and  brilliant 
discoveries. 

It  was  in  the  “ Prodromus,”  a brief  treatise  upon  “ The  Infinite 
and  the  Soul,”  that  the  philosophical  and  theological  thinking  of 
Swedenborg  began.  I say  philosophical  and  theological,  because 
it  was  his  firm  conviction  from  the  first,  that  revelation  and  philos- 
ophy were  fundamentally  identical,  that  all  religion  was  to  be  made 
scientific,  and  all  science  to  be  made  religious. 

The  first  question  which  suggests  itself  with  reference  to  the 
Swedenborgian  philosophy,  is  this.  What  is  the  method  it  pro- 
poses, by  which  truth  is  to  be  attained  ? Some  philosophers  had 
attempted  to  deduce  all  truth  from  a priori  principles  ; others  had 
attempted  to  ascend  by  an  inductive  process  from  the  particular  to 
the  general.  What  is  the  methodology  that  Swedenborg  adopted? 
To  answer  this  question  accurately,  we  should  premise,  that  he  set 
out  upon  no  fixed  metaphysical  principles  whatever ; he  went  to 
work  as  a solitary  and  independent  observer,  to  find  truth  ; and  the 
method  to  be  pursued,  formed  itself  as  he  proceeded.  As  any  un- 
philosophical  thinker  naturally  would  do,  he  began  his  career  by  a 
wide  observation  of  facts ; his  system,  therefore,  was  cradled  in 
simple  inductive  processes ; it  was  analytic  ; or  if  we  may  use  a 
word  implying  authority,  it  was  Baconian.  Few  perhaps  who  have 
only  listened  to  vague  rumors  respecting  this  philosophy,  would 
imagine  that  it  commenced  in  a collection  of  facts,  far  greater  than 

virtues  of  Madame  Guyon,  and  of  Fcnelon  himself,  yet  the  character  of  the  Quietbt 
mysticism  is  often  portrayed  by  his  pen  in  a very  striking  manner. 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


203 


those,  of  which  the  father  of  experimental  science  himself  had  any 
conception. 

After  passing  successively  through  the  regions  of  mechanics, 
with  the  corresponding  properties  of  matter ; after  traversing  the 
province  of  chemistry,  throwing  light  upon  the  action  of  impon- 
derable agents,  and  suggesting  the  germ  of  the  atomic  theory,  by 
pointing  out  the  geometrical  relations  existing  between  the  ulti- 
mate atoms,  Swedenborg  comes  at  length  to  the  animal  kingdom. 
Here  the  course  of  his  research  begins  to  gain  point  and  preg- 
nancy. The  human  body  may  be  regarded  as  that  in  which  all 
the  operations  of  nature  are  concentrated  and  perfected.  Here, 
therefore,  is  a microcosm — a perfect  representation  of  all  being — 
an  image  of  the  whole  creation ; here  consequently  a theatre, 
upon  which  philosophy  may  achieve  its  noblest  conquests.  In  this 
department,  then,  we  begin  to  see  more  clearly  some  of  the  scien- 
tific formulas  or  methods,  which,  evolved,  as  he  tells  us,  by  intense 
thought  and  patient  observation,  are  potent  to  cast  light  upon  the 
nature  and  uses  of  all  things  around  us.  First  of  all,  there  is  the 
doctrine  of  forms.  Nature,  he  considered,  is  purely  mechanical  in 
all  her  movements ; hence  every  higher  region  in  which  she  ap- 
pears, from  the  mineral  to  the  man,  is  represented  by  movement  in 
a particular  form.  All  the  movements  of  the  mineral  kingdom 
are  angular,  as  seen  in  the  crystal ; the  next  form  is  the  circular, 
as  seen  in  the  bodily  organization,  in  the  circulation  of  the  blood, 
&c. ; the  highest  form  is  the  spiral,  the  type  of  spirit  itself.* 

In  developing  the  physiology  of  the  human  body,  another  philo- 
sophical principle  comes  clearly  into  view,  namely,  the  doctrine  of 
series.  Anxious  to  know  the  real  structure  of  the  various  organs 
of  the  human  frame,  Swedenborg  conceived  that  the  doctrine  of 
monads,  and  of  ultimate  atoms,  would  only  bring  him  to  a dark 
unintelligible  point,  in  which  all  form  or  organization  ceased ; and 
that  the  notion  of  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter  would  lead  to  a 
nonentity,  from  which  nothing  could  be  drawn.  Every  organ, 
then,  he  conceived,  must  be  made  up  of  perfect  atomistic  organs, 
each  one  of  which  expresses  the  thing  itself  far  more  completely 
than  the  whole ; just  as  society  is  made  up  of  individual  men,  and 
each  man  is  the  most  perfect  pattern  of  humanity.  Everything  in 
nature,  therefore,  consists  of  a series  of  perfectly  organized  atoms 

* N.B. — There  are  other  and  higher  forms  enumerated,  which  refer  to  the  spirituaj 
world  only. 


204 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


— the  lungs,  e.  g.  of  innumerable  microscopic  lungs,  the  heart  of 
numerous  smallest  hearts,  and  so  forth  with  all  the  other  organs. 

Having  gone  through  the  regions  of  physiology,  Swedenborg 
came  to  the  confines  of  the  province  of  Spirit  itself.  Often,  he 
tells  us,  had  he  searched  for  some  light  upon  the  nature  of  the  soul, 
but  as  often  had  been  disappointed,  until  at  length  he  got  upon  the 
right  track,  and  entered  the  sacred  chamber.*  To  gaze  upon  the 
soul  by  the  senses  was  manifestly  impossible ; but  was  it  not  possi- 
ble to  reason  up  from  the  material  to  the  immaterial,  and  from  the 
facts  of  the  one  to  see  into  the  nature  of  the  other  ? The  validity 
of  such  a process  was  grounded  upon  the  doctrine  of  degrees ; a 
doctrine,  he  says,  which  is  necessary  “ to  enable  us  to  follow  in  the 
steps  of  nature ; since  to  attempt  without  it  to  approach  and  visit 
her  in  her  sublime  abode,  would  be  to  attempt  to  climb  heaven  by 
the  Tower  of  Babel ; for  the  highest  step  must  be  approached  by 
the  intermediate.”!  The  doctrine  of  degrees,  accordingly,  is  that 
which  teaches  us,  that  there  is  a relation  or  parallelism  between  all 
things  in  nature,  from  the  lowest  sphere  in  which  it  exists,  to  the 
highest.  Thus  the  brain  contains  potentially  the  whole  body,  and 
what  is  essentially  true  of  the  body,  is  true  of  it.  Again,  the  ani- 
mal spirits  which  flow  through  the  nerves,  in  a higher  and  more 
ethereal  sphere,  perfectly  represent  the  more  gross  and  obdurate 
human  organization ; so  also  the  soul  itself,  in  a still  higher  region, 
must  be  a perfect  type,  or  rather  co-ordinate  archetype,  of  the 
body.  Accordingly,  all  nature  by  these  degrees  ascends  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest,  and  descends  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest ; 
so  that  by  the  aid  of  this  philosophical  formula,  we  can  study  the 
spiritual  world  by  means  of  the  knowledge  we  possess  of  the  ma- 
terial.! 

Even  in  the  spirit  itself  there  are  degrees.  The  lowest  is  that 
which  is  only  cognizant  of  sensations ; the  next  above  this  is  the 
animus,  whose  office  is  to  imagine  and  desire  ; thirdly,  there  is  the 
mind,  which  understands  and  wills ; and  lastly,  thei'e  is  the  soul, 
whose  office  is  to  represent  the  universe,  and  have  intuition  of 
ends.§  Such  is  man,  so  far  as  iheform  of  his  being  is  concerned; 
but  where  is  the  life,  which  is  to  animate  him  ? The  body  is  dead 
matter,  but  it  is  vivified  by  the  animal  spirits  and  other  impondera- 

* See  his  “ Economy  of  the  Animal  Kingdom,”  chap,  iii.,  on  the  Soul ; at  the  com- 
mencement of  which  we  have  his  own  account  of  the  method  he  had  pursued. 

f Ibid.,  chap.  iii.  sec.  210. 

± This  is  an  application  of  the  doctrine  of  Correspondences. 

^ Economy  of  Animal  Kingdom,  chap.  iii.  sec.  6, 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


205 


ble  agents  ; these  agents  again  are  vivified  by  the  soul — but  whence 
the  life  of  the  soul ? It  is  the  love  of  God*  God,  according  to 
Swedenborg,  is  perfect  man.  The  essence  and  form  of  God  are 
respectively  perfect  love  and  perfect  wisdom ; the  former  is  repre- 
sented in  the  human  will,  the  latter  in  the  human  understanding. 

Having  thus  traced  the  philosophy  of  Swedenborg  to  its  highest 
point,  we  may  look  back  for  a moment  upon  his  whole  method  of 
procedure.  Evidently  it  is  the  inductive  and  synthetic  method 
combined.  Commencing  by  observation,  his  mind  seized  upon 
certain  high  philosophical  axioms,  and  from  them  reasoned  down- 
wards to  the  nature  and  uses  of  particular  objects.  Perhaps  it  is 
the  only  attempt  the  world  has  seen  (with  exception  of  the  unsuc- 
cessful effort  of  Comte)  at  rising  upwards  to  purely  philosophical 
ideas  from  positive  and  concrete  facts. 

Having  attained  thus  to  the  highest  region  of  philosophy,  Swe- 
denborg enters  the  world  of  theological  truth.  For  gazing  upon 
the  spiritual  world,  he  conceives  we  have  purely  spiritual  senses, 
and  a spiritual  understanding.  To  most  men  the  spiritual  world 
is  closed,  because,  absorbed  in  the  lower  or  sensual  life,  they  have 
no  intuition  of  it.  To  many,  moreover,  who  do  obtain  spiritual 
intuitions,  there  exists  not  an  enlightened  spiritual  understanding 
to  interpret  what  the  inward  eye  beholds.  Spiritual  or  theological 
truth  only  becomes  clear  where  both  these  requisites  unite  ; where 
the  purely  moralized  or  sensualized  soul  gazes  upon  the  higher 
world,  and  where  the  spiritual  understanding  can  comprehend 
what  is  seen.. 

Wrapt  in  his  own  deep  reveries,  Swedenborg  could  not  resist 
the  idea,  that  God,  by  a special  act  of  his  providence,  had  brought 
the  scenery  of  the  spiritual  world,  and  the  relations  of  spiritual 
truth,  before  his  own  mental  vision,  and  within  the  sphere  of  his 
intellection.  With  a mind  fraught  with  long  study  upon  nature 
and  her  works — with  a soul  habituated  to  deep  meditation  upon 
spiritual  things — with  a vivid  imagination  that  could  trace  the 
analogies  of  higher  truth  in  the  dark  windings  of  material  forms — 
with  a moral  nature  purified  to  virtue,  and  an  exquisite  sensibility 
of  the  whole  system,  he  lost  himself  in  the  visions  of  his  own  in- 
most soul.  Sometimes  he  seemed  transported  out  of  the  body — 
then  anon  he  would  wake  up  to  the  world  around  him ; sometimes 
he  pursued  his  high  imaginings,  unconscious  of  the  lapse  of  time ; 
and  then  he  wrote  down  that  he  had  seen  a vision  of  angels ; and 
* Angelic  Wisdom,  part  i. 


206 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


thus  the  high  truth,  that  man,  when  his  nature  is  elevated,  can 
converse  with  tlie  spiritual  world  through  the  medium  of  religious 
faith,  became  transformed  into  a special  revelation,  that  was  to 
usher  in  the  pui'ified  Church,  and  the  latter-day  glory.  Sweden- 
borg was  assuredly  a great  intellectual  phenomenon.  Seldom, 
perhaps  never,  have  so  many  systems  concentrated  in  a single 
mind.  He  began  a simple  observer — a Baconian  analyist;  from 
that  he  raised  himself  to  the  region  of  rational  and  ideal  truth  ; and 
ended  a mystic — the  favored  channel  of  a new  dispensation  to  man- 
kind. In  him,  sensationalism,  idealism,  mysticism,  were  united — 
the  only  phase  through  which  he  never  passed  was  that  of  scepti- 
cism. Had  he  been  fortunate  enough  to  complete  the  cycle,  had 
a tinge  of  wholesome  scepticism  curbed  his  credulity,  we  might 
have  had  a great  philosopher,  and  an  active  Christian  reformer, 
unmarred  by  the  enthusiasm  that  dared  to  claim  the  title  and  the 
honors  of  a divine  and  apostolic  messenger.* 

These  phenomena,  then,  which  we  have  just  enumerated,  may 
be  viewed  as  the  various  waves  of  scepticism  and  mysticism, 
which,  having  been  first  raised  by  the  storms  of  controversy,  in 
which  the  idealism  of  Descartes  and  the  sensationalism  of  Gassendi 
were  so  long  engaged,  propagated  themselves  in  different  degrees 
of  intensity  for  many  years  over  several  parts  of  the  Continent  of 
Europe.  In  the  meantime  the  phases  of  idealistic  and  sensational 
philosophy  themselves  had  altogether  changed.  The  philosophy 
of  Descartes  had  passed  through  the  hands  of  Malebranche  and 
Spinoza,  had  been  remodelled  by  Leibnitz,  and  had  come  forth  in 
a new  dogmatic  form  under  the  auspices  of  Wolf.  That  of  Gas- 
sendi, on  the  other  hand,  had  given  place  to  the  more  profound, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  more  popular  sensationalism  of  Locke  and 
his  expounder  Condillac ; so  that  the  effects  of  the  old  Cartesian 
controversy  had  hardly  expended  themselves,  before  the  fresh 
struggles  of  these  remodelled  systems  were  throwing  in  the  seeds 
of  a new  scepticism  and  a new  mysticism,  which  were  to  bear 
their  fruits  during  the  greater  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  This 
leads  us  to — 

* One  of  the  best  expositions  of  the  Swedenborgian  philosophy  is  given  in  the  Foreign 
Aids  to  Self-reflection,’' by  J.  A.  Heraud,  Esq.  (Monthly  Mag.  No.  29.)  The  Sweden- 
borgian Society  is  now  in  course  of  translating  and  publishing  his  works  complete. 
The  “ Principia,”the  “ Economy  of  the  Animal  Kingdom,”  with  an  admirable  introduc- 
tion by  J.  J.  G.  Wilkinson,  Esq.,  and  the  “ Animal  Kingdom,”  have  already  appeared, 
others  are  forthcoming. 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


207 


(B.)  The  Second  Period — originating  from  Locke  and  Leibnitz. 

The  scepticism  and  mysticism  of  the  eighteenth  century,  to 
which  we  now  advert,  showed  many  points  of  diversity  from  that 
which  preceded  it.  In  France  almost  all  traces  of  both  gradually 
died  away,  for  the  whole  mind  of  the  country  became  now  too 
much  absorbed  in  the  r^ing  school  of  materialism,  and  its  devo- 
tion to  physical  science,  to  give  rise  to  much  literature  of  a philo- 
sophical kind  beyond  these  limits.  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  in 
which  the  Leibnitzian-Wolfian  philosophy  was  swaying  a very 
feeble  sceptre,  gave  a far  better  opportunity  for  the  growth  of 
sceptical  principles,  aided  on,  as  they  were,  by  the  able  and  acute 
advocacy,  which  they  had  received  in  this  country  from  the  ver 
satile  pen  of  Hume.  The  court  of  Frederick  the  Great,  who  wel 
corned  men  of  any  opinions,  so  long  as  they  had  somewhat  of  the 
French  taste  and  refinement  about  them,  was  surrounded  by  a 
multitude  of  savans,  many  of  whom  took  a malignant  pride  in 
deprecating  all  the  philosophical  as  well  as  religious  notions  of 
their  day,  in  favor  of  a shallow  and  fashionable  scepticism. 

Among  these  the  Marquis  d’Argens  figured  as  the  author  of  a 
work,  by  no  means  deficient  in  erudition,  entitled,  “ The  Philos- 
ophy of  Good  Sense,”  the  object  of  which  was  to  throw  doubts, 
not  only  upon  the  conclusions  of  logic  and  metaphysics,  but  upon 
those  of  history,  and  even  natural  philosophy  and  astronomy  it- 
self* A still  more  direct  attempt  at  philosophical  scepticism  was 
made  by  M.  De  Beausobre,  who,  in  a work  entitled  “ Pyrrhonisme 
Raisonnable,”  advocated  a system  but  few  removes  from  that  of 
the  philosopher  whose  name  he  adopted,  and  w'hich  contained 
many  attacks  upon  almost  all  the  dogmatical  systems  of  philos- 
ophy, from  Aristotle  down  to  Wolff  The  same  tendency  was 
exhibited  in  Platner's  “ Aphorisms,”  a work  of  great  metaphysical 
ability,  which  appeared  first  in  1776.  Another  edition  of  this 
work,  considerably  modified,  was  published  after  the  appearance 
of  the  “ Critick  of  Pure  Reason,”  together  with  a “ Manual  of 
Logic  and  Metaphysics.”  In  these  works  he  attacked  the  con- 

* The  Marquis  d’Argens  was  remarkable  for  the  adventurous  character  of  his  life. 
He  was  brought  up  for  a soldier ; went  in  the  embassy  to  Turkey  ; visited  the  principal 
parts  of  Africa;  was  wounded  in  Germany;  and,  being  disinherited  by  his  father, 
found  a home  in  the  court  of  Frederick.  His  writings  are  all  marked  with  scepticism, 
more  especially  aimed  against  Christianity. 

t Louis  de  Beausobre,  the  son  of  Isaac  de  Beausobre,  was  born  in  Berlin.  His 
writings  are  not  esteemed  for  great  originality. 


208 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


elusions  of  the  Kantian  philosophy,  and  attempted  to  overwhelm 
its  positive  results,  by  reproducing  the  old  arguments  of  Pyrrhon- 
ism against  the  objective  validity  of  human  knowledge.*  Several 
other  sceptical  productions  were  put  forth  at  that  period,  which, 
however,  are  but  little  known  in  this  country,  and  which,  even  in 
Germany  itself,  have  been  long  lost  sight  of,  eclipsed  by  the 
brighter  lights  which  have  since  arisen  in  their  philosophical  hem- 
isphere. * 

These,  we  believe,  were  the  most  prominent  sceptical  writings 
which  made  their  appearance  during  this  age.  As  to  mysticism — 
mysticism  of  a direct  nature  made  but  little  fresh  effort  during  the 
middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  ; the  study  of  Swedenborg,  per- 
haps, affording  an  indirect  outlet  for  many  notions  of  a mystical 
character,  which  might  otherwise  have  presented  some  peculiar 
features  of  their  own.  It  was,  however,  in  the  latter  part  of  this 
century,  that  St.  Martin  translated  the  works  of  Jacob  Boehme, 
and  originated  the  doctrine  of  religious  mysticism  in  France,  for 
which  he  is  famous.  Any  one  who  wishes  to  understand  the  foun- 
dation upon  which  St.  Martin  built  most  of  his  peculiar  notions 
has,  in  order  to  appreciate  it  aright,  only  to  peruse  the  writings  of 
Henry  More,  one  of  the  Cambridge  Platonists,  and  then  imagine 
the  principles  there  advocated  reared  up  under  the  guidance  of  a 
versatile  and  enthusiastic  spirit,  as  a barrier  against  the  philo- 
sophical sensationalism  of  Condillac  and  the  religious  scepticism 
of  Voltaire.  St.  Martin  was  in  many  respects  very  similar  to  that 
mystical,  but  still  admirable  writer  ; and  the  opinions  prevalent  in 
France,  when  he  gave  utterance  to  his  thoughts,  were  such  as  to 
rouse  his  whole  soul  to  action,  in  the  attempt  to  place  his  own  lofty 
spiritualism  in  direct  opposition  to  them. 

To  give  some  idea  of  the  method  of  philosophizing,  which  is 
found  in  the  writings  of  the  “ unknown  philosopher,”  as  he  was 
often  termed,  I will  give  a single  passage  translated  from  an  article 
in  the  “Archives  Litteraires,”  which  appeared  in  1804,  just  after 
his  death,  and  quoted  by  M.  Damiron,  in  which  the  spirit  of  his 
system  is  ably  delineated.  “ The  system  of  St.  Martin  aims  at 
explaining  everything  by  means  of  man.  Man  is  to  him  the  key 
to  every  phenomenon,  and  the  image  of  all  truth.  Taking,  there- 
fore, literally  the  famous  oracle  of  Delphi,  ‘ nosce  te  ipsum,’  he 
maintains  that,  if  we  would  fall  into  no  mistakes  respecting  exist- 

* Plainer  is  perhaps  better  known  by  his  “ Anthropology,”  than  his  strictly  meta- 
physical writings.  No  man  of  his  day,  probably,  combined  a greater  knowledge  of 
physiology  and  philosophy  together. 


SCEPTICISM  ON  THE  CONTINENT. 


209 


ence,  and  the  harmony  of  all  beings  in  the  universe,  we  have  only 
to  understand  ourselves,  inasmuch  as  the  body  of  man  has  a ne- 
cessary relation  to  everything  visible,  and  his  spirit  is  the  type 
of  everything  that  is  invisible.  What  we  should  study,  then,  are 
the  physical  faculties  that  depend  upon  our  bodily  organization,  the 
intellectual  faculties,  whose  exercise  is  often  influenced  by  the 
senses  and  exterior  objects,  and  the  moral  faculties  or  the  con- 
science, which  supposes  free  will.  It  is  in  this  study  that  we  must 
seek  for  truth,  and  we  shall  find  in  ourselves  all  the  necessary 
means  of  arriving  at  it : this  it  is  which  our  author  calls  natural  rev- 
elation. For  example:  “ The  smallest  attention,”  he  says,  “ suffices 
to  assure  us  that  we  neither  communicate  nor  form  any  idea  with- 
out its  being  preceded  by  a picture  or  image  of  it,  engendered  by 
our  understanding ; in  this  way  it  is,  that  we  originate  the  plan  of 
a building,  or  any  other  work.  Our  creative  faculty  is  vast,  active, 
inexhaustible ; but  in  examining  it  closely,  we  see  that  it  is  only 
secondary,  temporary,  dependent ; that  is  to  say,  that  it  owes  its 
origin  to  a creative  faculty,  which  is  superior,  independent,  and 
universal,  of  which  ours  is  but  a feeble  copy.  Man,  therefore,  is  a 
type,  which  must  have  a prototype,  and  that  prototype  is  God.” 

From  this  extract  the  reader  may  form  some  idea  of  the  philo- 
sophical mysticism  by  which  St.  Martin  attempted  to  supplant  the 
shallow  materialism  and  growing  infidelity  of  his  age,  and  to  in- 
duce his  countrymen  to  take  a deeper  insight  into  the  constitution 
of  the  human  mind,  and  its  close  connection  with  the  Divine.* 

• (C.)  Thikd  Period — originating  with  Kant  and  Condillac. 

The  writings  of  Kant  and  Condillac  formed  a new  era  in  the 
progress  both  of  sensationalism  and  of  idealism.  As  their  re- 
spective syst3ms  became  propagated,  the  minor  efforts  of  the 
philosophical  spirit — its  sceptical  as  well  as  its  mystical  tendencies 
— gradually  disappeared.  The  former  expired  under  the  gigantic 
power  of  the  one,  the  latter  was  dissipated  by  the  clear  and  lucid 
analysis  of  the  other.  France  and  Germany  now  seemed  to  be 
equally  divided  between  the  material  school  of  Paris,  and  the 

♦ The  Marquis  Louis  Claude  de  St.  Martin,  called  the  Unknown  Philosopher,  was 
born  at  Amboise  1743,  and  died  1803.  His  life  was  one  of  great  literary  activity,  and 
his  writings  are  all  marked  by  a lofty  but  somewhat  mystical  spiritualism.  His  two 
principal  works  are,  “ Erreurs  de  la  Verite,  ou  les  Hommes  rappelcs  au  Principe  uni- 
versel  de  la  Science,”  (1775,)  and  “ De  I’Esprit  des  Choses,  ou  Coup-de’CEil  Philosophi- 
que  sur  la  nature  des  etres,  et  sur  I’objet  de  leur  existence : — Ouvrage  dans  lequel  on 
considere  I’Homme,  comme  etant  le  mot  de  toutes  les  enigmes.”  (2  vols.  8vo.  1800.) 

14 


210 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


idealistic  school  of  Konigsberg ; and  in  our  present  sketch  we 
have  to  pause  for  a time,  silent  spectators  of  this  conflict,  until  we 
see  scepticism  and  mysticism  again  appearing  between  the  com- 
batants, anew  to  chastise  their  too  great  temerity,  and  anew  to 
send  them  back  to  a closer  examination  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples upon  which  they  were  respectively  building.  Accordingly, 
ere  the  century  comes  to  a close,  we  see  the  indications  of  a new 
system,  both  of  sceptical  and  mystical  philosophy,  emanating  from 
the  Kantian  metaphysics ; the  former  brought  forward  by  Schulze, 
the  latter  by  Jacobi.  As  both  of  these  writers,  however,  though 
belonging  actually  to  the  eighteenth  century,  yet  pertain,  as  far  as 
their  influence  goes,  more  closely  to  the  nineteenth,  we  shall  here- 
after take  them  up  as  an  introduction  to  the  sceptical  and  mystical 
philosophy  of  Germany  during  the  present  age.  We  now  come 
back  to  our  own  country. 

Sect.  II. — Scepticism  and  Mysticism  in  England,  from  the  time 
of  Bacon  to  the  commencement  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

A struggle,  similar  to  that  which  we  have  described  between 
the  Cartesians  and  Gassendists  in  France,  was  carried  on  at  the 
very  same  period  in  England,  between  the  disciples  and  the  oppo- 
nents of  Hobbism.  The  idealistic  tendency,  however,  was  far  less 
extravagant  in  our  own  country  than  it  became  on  the  Continent, 
in  the  hands  of  Malebranche  and  Spinoza;  and  the  scepticism 
which  arose  from  its  paradoxes  was  proportionably  of  a less  sweep- 
ing character.  The  author,  who  in  England  most  perfectly  ex- 
pressed the  sceptical  tendency  of  this  age,  was  Joseph  Glanville, 
court-preacher  to  King  Charles  the  Second,  whose  work,  entitled 
“ Scepsis  Scientifica,  or  Confessed  Ignorance  the  Way  to  Science, 
in  an  Essay  of  the  Vanity  of  dogmatizing  and  confident  Opinion,” 
was  intended  rather  to  controvert  the  pretensions  of  the  Aristote- 
lian and  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  than  to  involve  the  whole  cir- 
cumference of  human  knowledge  in  darkness  and  uncertainty. 

Strictly  speaking,  therefore,  Glanville,  although  he  appropriates 
the  term  Scepsis  as  significant  of  his  philosophical  opinions,  was 
far  from  being  a universal  sceptic.  His  object  was  to  inculcate 
modesty,  to  chastise  dogmatism,  to  teach  the  mind  of  man  to  be 
contented  with  the  unostentatious  medium  between  the  bold  ma- 
terialism of  Hobbes,  and  the  assumptions  of  rationalism.  With 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


211 


this  end  in  view  he  attacked  the  authority  of  antiquity,  of  the 
schools,  and  of  the  more  modern  systems  of  philosophy,  with  a 
vigor  which,  though  wanting  in  profundity,  yet  at  least  had  the 
credit  of  being  lucid  and  eloquent.* 

The  most  remarkable  portions  of  the  work  above  referred  to 
are  the  observations  it  contains  upon  causation,  in  which  Glanville 
very  clearly  gives  the  germ  of  the  theory,  which  was  afterwards 
more  fully  developed  by  Hume.  Causes,  he  argues,  are  the  al- 
phabet of  science,  without  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  under- 
stand any  part  of  nature  aright.  But  causes  lie  altogether  beyond 
the  reach  of  experience,  which  reveals  to  us  nothing  but  phenom- 
ena ; and,  consequently,  as  experience  is  the  only  true  source  of 
human  knowledge,  it  follows  that  the  knowledge  which  men  have 
pretended  to  reach  of  scientific  and  abstract  truth,  cannot  be  any- 
thing better  than  hypothesis.!  This  reasoning,  though  not  very 
profound,  is  yet  remarkable  as  a display  of  the  systematic  scepti- 
cism, which  was  then  at  work  within  a narrow  circle,  and  as  being 
a kind  of  preparation  for  the  deeper  and  more  comprehensive 
views,  which  were  soon  after  propounded  by  the  Scottish  sceptical 
philosopher  who  succeeded  him. 

Mysticism,  on  the  other  hand,  was  favored  at  this  time  with  a 
far  greater  share  of  attention,  and  was  supported  by  far  greater 
learning,  than  were  the  feeble  efforts  of  incipient  scepticism.  The 
way  to  this  was,  perhaps,  already  paved  by  the  efforts  of  Robert 
Fludd  (born  1574,  died  1637)  to  revive  the  fanatical  doctrines  of 
Paracelsus ; but  the  more  direct  cause  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact 
that  many  lofty  minds,  disgusted  with  Hobbism  on  the  one  hand, 
and  unsatisfied  with  Cartesianism  on  the  other,  took  refuge  in  the 
sublime  philosophy  of  Plato,  and  devoted  themselves  with  severe 
and  ardent  study  to  the  elucidation  of  his  writings.  Cudworth, 
whom  we  have  already  classed  amongst  those  who  manifested  a 
tendency  to  idealism,  was  one  of  these  Platonic  philosophers,  and 
not  unfrequently  mingled  up  with  his  more  strictly  rationalistic 
views,  notions  which  bear  upon  their  features  somewhat  of  a mys- 
tical character.  But  in  Henry  More,  his  friend  and  companion, 
(born  1614,  died  1687,)  we  see  exemplified  the  whole  process  both 
of  scepticism  and  mysticism  through  which  the  human  mind  is 

* The  “ Scepsis  Scientifica”  was  in  fact  an  amended  edition  of  a former  work  entitled 
“ The  Vanity  of  Dogmatizing,”  the  former  being  published  in  1661,  the  latter  in  1665. 
Mr.  Hallam  expresses  his  opinion,  that  few  books  are  more  deserving  of  being  reprinted 
than  the  “ Scepsis  Scientifica.” 

■f  See  “ Scepsis  Scientifica,”  p.  142. 


212 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


often  led,  after  being  compelled  to  distrust  the  conclusions  of  the 
current  philosophy. 

More  was  educated,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  age,  in  the 
scholastic  doctrines  ; but,  being  driven  from  these  through  the  in- 
creasing influence  of  the  writings  of  Lord  Bacon  and  his  succes- 
sors, he  became  a most  zealous  Cartesian,  and  even  corresponded 
with  Descartes  himself  on  some  questions  relating  to  his  philos- 
ophy. Finding,  however,  no  certainty  from  these  principles,  and 
seeing  with  great  penetration  the  paradoxes  in  which  he  would  be 
involved  by  carrying  them  out  to  their  just  inferences,  he  plunged 
so  deeply  into  scepticism,  that  he  at  length  began  even  to  doubt 
the  proof  of  his  own  individuality.  Not  yet,  however,  was  the 
yearning  after  truth  altogether  repressed  by  the  spirit  of  unbelief ; 
for  we  find  him  soon  after  buried  in  the  deep  mines  of  Platonism, 
and  hear  him  after  a while  declaring,  according  to  the  Platonic 
doctrine,  that  true  and  perfect  knowledge,  which  alone  renders  us 
happy,  can  only  be  found  in  that  mental  purity  and  spiritual  en- 
lightenment, by  which  we  are  elevated  to  a union  with  the  Divine 
mind  itself. 

More  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  belief,  that  the  revelation 
which  God  had  originally  made  to  the  Hebrew  nation  had  been 
communicated  through  the  Pythagorean  books  to  Plato ; and  not 
only  this,  but  that  the  Cabalistic  philosophy  as  well,  contained  a 
system  of  truth  couched  under  its  metaphors  and  symbols,  which 
was  likewise  to  be  traced  to  the  same  Divine  origin.  On  this 
ground  he  sought  to  prove,  that  there  is  a unity  of  spirit  pervad- 
ing these  various  writings,  and  that  the  whole  sum  of  true  philos- 
ophy had  its  germ  in  the  illumination  which  man  originally  re- 
ceived from  the  supernatural  communication  made  to  him  by  God. 
The  love  which  More  manifested  to  the  most  ethereal  portions  of 
Platonism,  his  warm  defence  of  the  Cabala,  his  peculiar  theologi- 
cal tenets,  besides  many  of  his  poems,  all  clearly  indicated  his  de- 
cided leaning  to  mysticism.  These  collateral  views,  however, 
might  have  been  passed  by  almost  unnoticed,  or  regarded  simply 
as  the  poetic  excursions  of  a lofty  soul  towards  the  elevated  re- 
gions of  spiritualism.  But  in  addition  to  all  this,  there  is  in  his 
philosophy  a calm  and  dispassionate  maintaining  of  the  very  same 
doctrines.  It  is  when  we  find  him  asserting,  on  the  one  hand,  that 
the  organ  of  true  knowledge  in  man  is  a direct  and  divine  intui- 
tion ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  original  and  only  source  of 
truth  objectively  considered  is  an  immediate  revelation  from  God, 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


213 


that  we  become  most  sensible  how  deeply  he  had  drunk  into  the 
spirit  of  philosophical  as  well  as  of  religious  mysticism. 

Theophilus  Gale,  a Presbyterian  clergyman,  contemporary  with 
More,  followed  in  the  same  direction,  although  by  no  means  to  so 
great  a length.  He  regarded  the  Bible  alone  as  the  source  of  true 
philosophy,  and  traced  all  the  real  knowledge  that  different  heathen 
nations  possessed  to  its  pages,  as  the  fountain  from  which  the  whole 
had  originally  sprung.  There  are  two  works  in  which  Gale  devel- 
oped his  views  on  these  subjects.  In  the  first  of  them,  that  en- 
titled “ The  Court  of  the  Gentiles,”  (1676,)  he  endeavors  to  trace 
all  the  notions  of  antiquity  which  deserve  any  consideration, 
whether  upon  theology  or  philosophy,  up  to  the  Scriptures ; or  at 
least  to  Jewish  originals  ; and  even  goes  so  far  as  to  show  that  the 
very  words  they  employed  were  taken  from  this  inspired  source. 
His  second  work,  called  “ Philosophia  Universalis,”  follows  up  the 
argument  in  two  parts.  In  the  first  he  treats  of  the  history  of  phi- 
losophy, more  especially  that  of  Plato,  to  which  he  was  strongly 
attached  : in  the  second  he  expounds  his  own  theory  on  the  origin 
of  our  knowledge,  attributing  the  whole  to  an  inspired  source,  as 
being  the  only  theory  upon  w'hich  its  very  existence  could  be  ex- 
plained. 

The  most  open  and  avowed  mysticism,  however,  of  this  period, 
was  that  of  John  Pordage,  (born  1625,  died  1698,)  who  spread 
abroad  much  the  same  doctrines  in  England  as  Peter  Poiret  was 
at  the  same  time  engaged  in  diffusing  throughout  France.  The 
philosophy  of  Pordage  was  founded  on  the  writings  of  Jacob 
Boehme,  whose  notions  he  attempted  first  to  systematize  and  ar- 
range, and  then  to  vindicate  by  an  appeal  to  revelation.  The 
general  character  of  his  system  may  be  seen  by  the  title  of  one 
of  his  chief  works,  which  runs  as  follows  : — “ Theologia  Mystica 
sive  arcana  mysticaque  doctrina  de  invisibilibus  aeternis,  &c.,  non 
rational!  arte,  sed  cognitione  intuitiva  descripta.”  With  this  title 
alone,  we  apprehend,  our  readers  will  be  quite  satisfied-;  and  there- 
fore, having  brought  it  for  a moment  to  their  view,  we  must  leave 
it  to  those  who  are  curious  in  tracing  the  meanderings  of  the  hu- 
man spirit  in  its  search  after  truth,  to  investigate  more  at  length 
the  principles  upon  which  the  doctrines  advanced  under  it  are 
founded,  and  to  estimate  the  value  of  the  results  to  which  they 
may  possibly  lead. 

The  bald  enumeration  of  the  foregoing  names  may,  perhaps, 
seem  to  require  some  apology.  Our  simple  object  in  doing  so  has 


214 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


been  to  show,  what  phenomena  of  a mystical  and  sceptical  ten- 
dency actually  made  their  appearance  at  this  time,  without  crowd- 
ing our  pages,  and  taxing  the  patience  of  our  readers  with  the 
useless  details  of  long-forgotten  theories. 

Here,  then,  the  history  of  the  English  scepticism  and  mysticism, 
as  they  appeared  successively  during  the  seventeenth  century, 
closes.  The  philosophy  of  Locke,  which  became  popular  to  an 
almost  unprecedented  extent  towards  the  close  of  this  period,  pro- 
duced an  influence  upon  the  thinkers  of  the  age,  which  turned  the 
whole  current  of  metaphysical  speculation  into  a new  channel. 
The  mystic  Platonism  and  the  Cartesian  rationalism  which  had 
prevailed  so  extensively  throughout  the  country,  were  gradually 
forgotten,  and  all  eyes  seemed  turned  to  Locke  as  the  great  oracle 
who  was  to  solve  all  the  doubts  in  which  philosophy  had  been  in- 
volved, and  to  probe  with  unerring  accuracy  all  the  powers  and 
faculties  of  the  human  understanding. 

The  principles  of  Locke’s  celebrated  Essay  we  have  already 
criticized  at  some  length,  and  shown,  we  trust  sufficiently,  the  dan- 
gerous readiness  which  it  manifested,  to  regard  experience  as  the 
sole  basis,  upon  which  any  system  of  truth  could  be  erected.  To 
refute  this,  idealism,  as  we  have  also  seen,  raised  a strong  opposi- 
tion ; but  whilst  cui'bing  the  advancing  sensationalism  in  its  course, 
it  did  not  stop  in  its  own  progress  until  it  had,  in  the  person  of 
Berkeley,  denied  the  very  existence  of  the  material  world.  The 
result  of  this  contest  was  natural.  To  suppose  that  the  extreme 
empirical  principles,  W'hich  flowed  from  the  school  of  Locke, 
should  exist  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  perfected  idealism  of  Berkeley 
should  co-exist  on  the  other,  both  leading  to  many  strange  and 
paradoxical  results,  without,  at  the  same  time,  shaking  the  confi- 
dence of  mankind  in  the  power  and  authority  of  the  human  rea- 
son, and  urging  them  on  the  road  to  scepticism,  was,  according  to 
all  the  results  of  former  experience,  absolutely  impossible.  We 
naturally  look,  therefore,  for  an  energetic  display  of  scepticism, 
which  should  answer  in  some  measure  to  the  ability  and  acuteness 
with  which  the  other  rival  theories  were  supported ; and  if  there 
be  any  truth  in  the  supposition  that  the  sceptical  element  is  the 
check,  which,  by  our  very  constitution,  is  intended  to  curb  the 
rashness  of  a too  hasty  generalization,  our  expectations  could  not, 
assuredly,  in  this  instance,  be  disappointed. 

The  scepticism  which  arose  out  of  the  school  of  Locke,  we  find, 
in  fact,  to  be  one  of  the  most  deeply  grounded  in  its  principles,  the 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


2]5 


most  logical  in  its  arguments,  and  the  most  sweeping  in  its  conclu- 
sions, of  any  which  the  history  of  philosophy  has  recorded ; and  the 
name  of  David  Hume,  its  great  advocate,  will  ever  be  remembered 
as  associated  with  all  that  is  b'old  and  comprehensive  in  the  attacks 
which  have  been  made  against  the  validity  of  human  knowledge.* 
Hume  united  in  himself,  to  a high  degree,  the  observing  power 
of  sensationalism,  with  the  faculty  of  abstract  reasoning  that  has 
generally  belonged  peculiarly  to  idealism,  and  knew  perfectly  what 
had  been  found  unsatisfactory  in  the  one  system,  as  well  as  what 
was  inconclusive  in  the  other.  He  came,  properly  speaking,  from 
the  school  of  Locke,  and  adopted  throughout,  the  fundamental 
axioms  of  that  philosophy  for  his  own ; but  he  could  equally  well 
employ  a more  abstract  method  of  reasoning,  whenever  it  suited 
his  purpose,  in  order  to  strengthen  the  grounds  of  his  startling  un- 
belief. 

To  the  first  principles,  from  which  he  took  his  start,  no  one  at  that 
time  could  very  strongly  demur.  It  was  then  generally  admitted 
that  Locke’s  account  of  the  origin  of  our  ideas  was  correct,  and 
that  the  whole  of  our  knowledge  might  really  be  traced  to  sensa- 
tion or  reflection  as  its  primary  source.  Hume,  in  fact,  did  little 
more  than  change  the  current  phraseology,  when  he  said  that  all 
our  mental  phenomena  consist  of  impressions  and  ideas ; including 
under  the  former  our  direct  perceptions,  and  by  the  latter  meaning 
the  signs  of  them,  which,  by  virtue  of  memory,  association,  &c., 
remain  after  the  impression  has  ceased. f In  addition  to  this,  he 
was  only  following  Aristotle,  the  scholastic  philosophers,  Descartes, 
Malebranche,  and  Locke  himself,  when  he  assumed  as  indisputable 
the  representationalist  theory  of  human  knowledge,  and  took  for 
granted,  that  by  the  idea  of  any  real  outward  existence,  we  are  to 
understand  the  representation  or  copy  of  it  actually  existing  within 
our  own  minds ; this  copy  being  the  sole  means  by  which  we  can 
» attain  to  the  knowledge  of  the  objective.  J 

Now,  these  two  fundamental  principles,  that  of  the  representa- 
tionalist theory  of  human  knowledge,  and  that  of  the  sensational 

* Hume  was  born  at  Edinburgh,  April  26th,  1711,  and  died  in  1776.  A full  and 
highly  interesting  life  of  Hume,  with  much  new  information  from  his  manuscripts,  has 
recently  appeared,  by  J.  H.  Burton,  Esq. 

f Our  references  for  Hume  will  be  all  taken  from  the  “ Enquiry  into  the  Human 
Understanding,”  as  it  stands  in  the  second  vol.  of  his  Essays.  His  Treatise  on  Human 
Nature,  he  himself  wished  to  be  cancelled,  and  always  pointed  to  the  “ Enquiry,”  as 
containing  his  matured  views.  For  Hume’s  theory  of  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  see 
“ Enquiry,”  sec.  2. 

Hume  does  not  maintain  the  ideal  system  ; he  merely  assumes  it  tacitly,  as  a truth 
which  no  one  would  question. 


216 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


origin  of  our  ideas,  form  the  basis,  and  contain  the  prolific  germs  of 
all  the  astounding  scepticism,  for  which  Hume  became  celebrated 
throughout  Europe.  The  first  of  these  principles  Bishop  Berkeley- 
had  already  employed,  in  order  to  undermine  the  evidence  of  the 
external  world ; and  Hume  clearly  saw  that  all  the  arguments 
which  Descartes  or  others  had  used  to  prove  the  existence  of  mat- 
ter, completely  failed  before  the  more  close  and  consecutive  reason- 
ing of  that  prelate.  But,  not  content  with  the  idealism  thus  origi- 
nated, he  went  on  to  show  that  Berkeley,  although  perfectly  correct 
as  far  as  he  had  ventured  to  proceed  in  his  argument,  had  not  car- 
ried it  out  to  its  legitimate  extent ; that  he  ought  to  have  applied 
his  principles  to  the  subjective  as  well  as  the  objective  world ; and 
that,  as  impressions  and  ideas  express  everything  of  which  we  are 
conscious,  (the  whole  mass  of  our  knowledge  being  reducible  to 
these  two  heads,)  we  have  no  right  to  conclude  upon  the  real  ex- 
istence of  a substance  called  mind,  any  more  than  of  that  which  is 
termed  matter.* 

It  was  against  the  representationalist  theory,  as  being  the  foun- 
dation of  these  sceptical  conclusions,  that  Reid  directed  the  chief 
points  of  his  controversy  ; and  it  was  upon  the  successful  refutation 
of  it  that  he  claimed  his  chief  originality  as  a metaphysician.  For 
our  estimate  of  this  controversy,  therefore,  we  must  refer  our  read- 
ers back  to  the  last  chapter,  in  which  we  have  shown  how  far 
Reid  appears  to  have  merited  the  honor  that  he  laid  claim  to,  and 
pointed  out  in  what  manner  the  arguments  of  scepticism  upon  this 
head  may  be  satisfactorily  repelled.  One  additional  remark  only 
we  would  make,  namely,  that  Hume  deserves  our  thanks,  not  in- 
deed for  the  intrinsic  value  of  his  opinions,  but  for  the  bold  and 
lucid  manner  in  which  he  brought  the  philosophy  of  his  age  to  a 
great  crisis.  It  was  this  crisis  which  proximately  caused  the  over- 
throw of  representation alism,  as  a theory  of  human  knowledge,  and 
gave  rise  to  the  renewed  attempts  which  were  made  towards  the 
close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  for  strengthening  the  main  pillars 
of  human  belief 

The  most  famous  portions  of  Hume’s  scepticism,  however,  were 
the  conclusions  he  drew  from  his  empirical  principles  respecting 
the  origin  of  our  ideas.  Every  notion,  according  to  these  princi- 
ples, which  cannot  show  some  impression,  i.  e.  some  direct  sensa- 
tion from  which  it  proceeds,  is  altogether  delusive,  and  must  be  re- 


* For  Hume’s  statement  of  the  argument  of  scepticism,  see  “ Enquiry,”  sec.  12. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


217 


jected  as  worthless  by  the  tru«  experimental  philosopher.*  Amongst 
these  merely  imaginary  notions,  Hume  places  that  of  power,  it  be- 
ing evident  that  we  can  learn  from  experience  nothing  more  than 
the  existence  of  certain  changes,  which  take  place  under  certain 
circumstances ; and  that  there  is  no  perceptive  faculty  in  man,  by 
which  the  link  that  connects  any  two  given  events  can  possibly  be 
discovered.! 

It  was  this  argument  that  led  Kant  to  undertake  the  “ Critick 
of  Pure  Reason.”  “ I freely  own,”  remarks  that  great  thinker, 
“ that  the  suggestions  of  David  Hume  were  what  first,  many  years 
ago,  roused  me  from  my  dogmatical  slumbers,  and  gave  to  my  in- 
quiries quite  a different  direction  in  the  field  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy. * * * I first  inquired  whether  Hume’s  objection 

might  not  be  a general  one,  and  soon  found  that  the  idea  of  cause 
and  effect  is  far  from  being  the  only  one,  by  which  the  understand- 
ing a priori  thinks  of  the  connection  of  things ; but  rather  that 
the  science  of  metaphysics  is  altogether  founded  upon  these  con- 
nections. I endeavored  to  ascertain  their  number,  and  as  I suc- 
ceeded in  this  attempt,  upon  a single  .principle,  I proceeded  to  the 
deduction  of  those  general  ideas  which,  I was  now  convinced,  are 
not,  as  Hume  apprehended,  derived  from  experience,  but  arise  out 
of  the  pure  understanding.  This  deduction,  which  seemed  im- 
possible to  my  acute  predecessor,  and  which  nobody  besides  him 
had  ever  conceived — although  every  one  makes  use  of  these  ideas 
without  asking  himself  upon  what  their  objective  validity  is  founded 
— this  deduction  was,  I say,  the  most  difficult  which  could  have 
been  undertaken  for  the  behoof  of  metaphysics.  And  what  was 
still  more  embarrassing,  metaphysics  could  not  here  offer  me  the 
smallest  assistance,  because  that  deduction  ought  first  to  establish 
the  possibility  of  a system  of  metaphysics.  As  I had  now  suc- 
ceeded in  the  explanation  of  Hume’s  problem  not  merely  in  a par- 
ticular instance,  but  with  a view  to  the  whole  power  of  pure  reason, 
I could  advance  with  sure,  though  tedious  steps,  to  determine 
completely,  and  upon  general  principles,  the  compass  of  pure  rea- 
son, together  with  what  is  the  sphere  of  its  exertion,  and  what  are 
its  limits ; which  was  all  that  was  required  for  erecting  a system 
of  metaphysics  upon  a proper  and  solid  foundation.”! 

Let  us  look  then  a little  more  closely  at  the  problem  which 
aroused  Kant  from  his  slumbers,  and  test  the  solution  of  it  which 

» “ Enquiry,”  sec.  2.  f Ibid.  sec.  7,  part.  i. 

i M.  Willich’s  translation,  in  his  “ Elements  of  the  Critical  Philosophy,’’  p.  13. 


218 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Hume  proposed.  All  the  objects  of  human  inquiry,  says  Hume, 
are  of  two  kinds;  relations  of  ideas,  and  matters  of  fact.  The 
former  (as  for  example,  the  relations  of  space  and  number  in  ge- 
ometry and  arithmetic),  present  no  difficulty;  they  are  all  discov- 
erable simply  by  the  operations  of  thought.  In  reasoning  about 
matters  of  fact,  however,  the  case  is  different ; here  one  fact  is 
always  accounted  for  by  another,  and  imagined  to  stand  in  close 
relation  with  it ; as  when  the  existence  of  human  beings  on  an 
island,  would  be  inferred,  from  seeing  a house  upon  it.* 

Every  inquiry,  then,  on  matters  of  fact,  as  Hume  correctly 
shows,  is  based  upon  the  notions  of  cause  and  effect ; the  origin  of 
which  notions  he  discovers  in  experience,  and  entirely  disowns  the 
supposition  that  any  idea  of  power  or  adaptation  is  connected 
with  them.  Here  we  conceive  there  is  double  error ; for,  first  of 
all,  we  have  the  distinct  idea  of  power  (whether  it  be  objectively 
valid  or  not),  given  in  the  perception  of  two  phenomena  succeed- 
ing each  other ; neither  can  all  the  reasoning  in  the  world  dispos- 
sess us  of  it.  And  secondly,  the  notion  of  cause  and  effect  cannot 
come  from  sensible  experience,  because  the  idea  of  power,  which 
forms  the  very  peculiarity  in  all  those  successions,  that  stand  re- 
lated as  cause  and  effect,  is  one  which  lies  altogether  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  senses.  It  is  not  experience  which  tells  us,  when  a 
man  is  murdered,  that  there  must  be  a murderer ; the  law  which 
refers  such  an  effect  to  an  efficient  cause,  lies  deeper  in  our  nature 
than  this,  and  has  about  ’ it  a necessity,  and  a universality,  which 
prior  experience  could  never  have  strengthened,  nor  the  want  of 
it  have  prevented.  A single  act  brings  the  law  or  judgment  into 
operation  as  readily  as  a thousand.  Reid  and  Kant  both  contested 
the  empirical  doctrine  of  Hume  on  this  point.  The  former  ap- 
pealed to  common  sense,  and  made  the  law  of  causality  one  of  our 
intellectual  instincts ; the  latter  argued  that  the  idea  of  cause  and 
effect  is  one  of  the  a priori  forms  by  which  the  human  mind  ne- 
cessarily views  the  connection  of  external  things — a doctrine, 
which  grounds  Reid’s  instinct  in  a deeper  principle  or  law  of  our 
inward  nature. 

Having  concluded,  then  (incorrectly  as  we  conceive)  that  all 
our  notions  of  cause  and  effect,  and  the  relations  existing  between 
objects,  are  referrible  to  experience,  Hume  proceeded  to  moot 
another  and  still  deeper  question,  namely,  upon  what  principle  all 
the  conclusions  of  experience  are  grounded. f Let  it  be  admitted 
♦ See  Enquiry,  sec.  4,  part  1.  t Enquiry,  sec.  4,  part.  2. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


219 


that  we  have  observed  certain  phenomena  to  succeed  each  other 
invariably,  i.  e.  to  stand  in  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  on  what 
ground  can  we  affirm  that  the  same  sequences  will  still  occur  for 
the  future.  There  is  a universal  and  an  unfailing  expectation 
among  men,  that  the  same  antecedents,  under  similar  circum- 
stancs,  will  be  followed  by  the  same  consequents.  Whence  does 
this  expectation  arise?  Does  it  arise  from  a course  of  reasoning 
grounded  on  experience,  or  from  habit,  or  from  the  intuitive  judg- 
ment we  necessarily  form,  whenever  we  see  an  effect,  that  there 
must  be  some  efficient  cause  or  causes  at  work,  which,  under  the 
same  circumstances,  will  operate  again  in  the  same  manner? 
Hume  in  discussing  the  first  hypothesis,  showed  with  great  power 
of  reasoning,  that  it  is  impossible,  from  the  mere  experience  of  the 
past,  to  demonstrate  by  a logical  process  the  recurrence  of  any  set 
of  events  for  the  future.  To  the  future,  experience  cannot  at  all 
apply,  so  that  every  judgment  we  form  respecting  futurity  from  the 
past  must  in  fact  involve  the  very  expectation  itself,  for  which  we 
are  attempting  to  account.  To  suppose  that  expectation,  there- 
fore, to  be  a logical  inference  from  experience,  would  be  clearly 
reasoning  in  a vicious  circle.  It  would  be  deducing  the  expecta- 
tion from  the  inference,  and  the  inference  from  the  expectation.* 

In  this  part  of  the  controversy,  Hume  manifestly  felt  the  strength 
of  his  position,  and,  we  admit,  used  it  to  the  very  best  advantage. 
Having  refuted  the  theory  of  experience,  therefore,  he  takes  up,  in 
the  next  place,  the  doctrine  so  often  maintained  by  the  Idealist — 
that  the  invariable  succession  of  phenomena  is  known  to  us  as  an 
intuitive  or  a priori  truth.  This  doctrine,  however,  is  disposed  of 
by  him  with  still  greater  ease  and  brevity.  All  intuitive  truth  is 
such  that  its  contradiction  would  imply  an  absurdity ; but  there  is  no 
absui’dity  in  supposing  many  phenomena  not  to  stand  in  the  relation 
of  cause  and  effect  which  hitherto  have  done  so ; and  consequently 
the  expectation  in  question  must  have  some  other  basis. f The 
only  conclusion  remaining  was,  that  our  belief  in  the  uniformity  of 
nature,  as  a universal  truth,  must  arise  from  habit  or  custom, 
gradually  formed  and  strengthened  by  the  power  of  association. 

To  explain  the  existence  of  this  habit  he  enters  into  an  analysis 
of  the  laws  of  association,  from  which  analysis  he  concludes  that 
there  are  three,  and  only  three,  principles  of  connection  between 
our  ideas — namely,  resemblance,  contiguity,  and  causality.  Ac- 
cordingly, our  belief  in  the  reality  of  cause  and  effect  is  discovered 

* Enquiry,  sec.  4.  part  2.  t Ibid. 


220 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


to  be  a case  of  association,  which,  from  its  extreme  frequency  of 
occurrence,  at  last  produces  the  idea,  that  there  is  a real  link  of 
connection  between  the  two,  and  thus  occasions  our  confidence  in 
the  uniform  recurrence  of  natural  phenomena  to  all  futurity.* 

Now,  if  this  be  true,  it  is  evident,  that  the  belief  in  question  must 
arise  solely  from  the  vividness  or  the  strength  of  our  associations. 
But  does  this,  we  ask,  agree  with  the  facts  of  our  daily  observation  ? 
Is  there  not  a difference  in  kind  as  well  as  degree  between  a case 
of  imagination,  however  vivid,  and  one  of  real  belief?  So  evi- 
dently is  this  the  fact,  that  we  sometimes  believe  a thing,  the 
impression  of  which  is  hardly  clear  and  strong  enough  to  be  per- 
ceptible, while  our  most  vivid  conceptions  of  the  imaginative  kind 
altogether  fall  short  of  reality.  Mere  association  can  never  produce 
belief,  unless  there  is  some  other  element  in  the  evidence  besides. 
Even  Hume  himself,  with  all  his  acuteness,  wavers,  hesitates,  and 
stumbles  in  the  prosecution  of  his  theory,  and  in  one  place  is  even 
betrayed  so  far  as  to  admit,  that  in  the  case  of  belief  there  must  be 
some  peculiarity  in  the  manner  in  which  the  connected  ideas  are 
conceived,  although  he  does  not  explain  very  distinctly  what  that 
peculiarity  is.f 

Again,  the  theory  before  us  does  not  coincide  with  facts,  when 
it  states  that  our  belief  in  the  uniformity  of  nature’s  operations  is 
formed  and  strengthened  by  the  frequent  recurrence  of  the  associ- 
ation. If  so,  let  any  one  produce  a common  instance  in  which 
such  belief  has  ever  appeared  feeble,  or  in  which  frequency  of 
recurrence  has  made  it  a whit  stronger  than  it  was  before.  Any 
child,  after  the  first  experiment,  manifests  his  conviction  in  the 
laws  of  nature,  as  strongly  as  the  octogenarian  after  the  experience 
of  his  whole  life  ; so  that  if  the  belief  be  of  the  gradual  formation 
here  described,  it  must  have  been  all  produced  during  a period  of 
infancy  prior  to  that  in  which  we  could  make  any  observation  upon 
it,  or  draw  any  conclusion  to  support  the  theory. 

The  theory  which  Reid  maintained  in  opposition  to  this  part  of 
Hume’s  scepticism,  (that,  namely,  in  which  he  places  our  confidence 
in  the  stability  of  nature  amongst  man’s  instinctive  beliefs,)  was  as 
complete  as  the  philosophy  of  common  sense  could  make  it,  and, 
we  must  admit,  was  well  suited  as  a general  statement  to  resist  the 

♦ Enquiry,  sec.  5,  part  2. 

t “ Let  us  then  take  in  the  whole  compass  of  this  doctrine,  and  allow  that  the  senti- 
ment of  belief  is  nothing  but  a conception  more  intense  and  steady  than  what  attends 
the  mere  fictions  of  the  imagination,  and  that  this  manner  of  conception  arises  from  a 
customary  conjunction  of  the  object  with  something  present  to  the  memory  or  senses.” 
Sec.  5,  part  2. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


221 


% 

progress  of  so  irrational  an  incredulity  among  the  mass  of  his  read- 
ers. But  perhaps  the  question  might  have  been  reduced  to  a more 
simple  case  of  primitive  judgment.  All  our  primitive  judgments, 
as  we  have  seen  in  our  analysis  of  Locke,  are  at  first  particular 
and  concrete.  The  axiom,  “ things  which  are  equal  to  the  same 
are  equal  to  one  another,”  never  suggests  itself  to  a child’s  mind ; 
and  yet  as  soon  as  reason  is  developed  enough  to  observe  equality, 
that  child  shows  that  he  can  form  the  judgment,  of  which  the  above 
axiom  is  the  general  expression,  in  reference  to  any  individual  case 
that  may  come  before  him.  In  the  same  manner,  when  we  first 
observe  successive  changes  take  place  in  nature,  we  form  the 
judgment,  that  a parallelism  of  conditions  indicates  a parallelism 
of  results  ; that  the  same  powers  ever  exist  to  bring  about  the  same 
phenomena  under  similar  circumstances,  or  to  put  the  judgment 
in  another  form,  that  the  properties  of  similar  things  are  themselves 
similar.*  But  it  is  evident,  that  in  this  judgment  there  is  something 
complex  still,  for  it  is  not  yet  defined  what  we  mean  by  the  prop- 
erties of  things,  or  what  we  really  do  when  we  judge  of  their  simi- 
larity. Properties  of  bodies,  when  analyzed,  turn  out  to  be  simply 
another  expression  for  the  powers  of  bodies  ; and  as  we  only  know 
bodies  through  their  properties,  it  follows  that  we  can  only  know 
them  as  existing  powers.  Thus  philosophy,  in  the  same  manner  as 
mechanics,  while  it  asserts  the  real  objective  existence  of  matter, 
yet  regards  it  not  as  a dead  inactive  substratum,  but  as  a combina- 
tion of  forces  acting  variously  under  given  circumstances,  and  in 
given  directions,  t 

Again,  to  go  a step  further,  if  we  were  asked  whence  we  get  the 
notion  of  power,  (which  we  now  see  to  be  implied  in  that  of  sub- 
stance,) I answer  that  we  get  it  from  the  consciousness  of  our  in- 
ward activity — from  the  will — or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  from  the 
me — the  real  starting  point,  though  not  the  sole  element,  of  all  our 
knowledge.  Thus,  then,  we  have  traced  the  principle  of  our  be- 
lief in  the  uniformity  of  nature  up  to  a distinct  fact  of  our  self- 
consciousness.  To  make  this  clearer,  let  us  present  the  same  steps 
again  in  the  synthetic  form.  First  of  all,  I am  conscious  of  myself 
as  a power,  a will,  an  activity.  Moreover,  I am  conscious  that 
under  certain  circumstances  my  will  invariably  puts  forth  its 
power  upon  the  world  around.  In  all  cases  of  resistance,  for  ex- 

* See  “ Metaphysical  Enquiry,”  by  Isaac  Preston  Cory,  Esq.  p.  23  et  seq.,  in  which 
many  acute  suggestions  are  thrown  out  upon  Hume’s  problem. 

f For  a clearer  view  of  the  dynamical  theory  of  matter,  see  our  remarks  upon  Leibnitz, 
Maine  de  Biran,  and  Cousin. 


222 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ample,  I am  conscious  of  making  a counter  resistance,  in  order  to 
maintain  equilibrium.  Gazing  upon  objects  around,  I see  othei 
powers  on  every  side  which  operate  upon  me,  and  upon  each  other. 
Having  witnessed  the  operation  of  any  of  these  powers,  in  one 
instance,  I get  the  conviction,  that  just  as  my  will  invariably  exerts 
itself  in  opposition  to  other  forces  invading  it,  so  these  powers  out 
of  me,  having  done  so  once  in  my  own  experience,  will  do  so 
again — that  this  is,  in  short,  the  law  of  their  activity.  Now  the 
powers  around  me  are  material  objects,  the  expression  of  their  ac- 
tivity we  call  their  properties : and  hence  the  law  just  deduced, 
translated  from  the  language  of  dynamics  into  that  of  our  ordinary 
materialism,  takes  the  shape  of  the  judgment  we  have  already  ex- 
pressed ; namely,  that  the  properties  of  similar  things  are  similar. 
It  is,  in  fact,  but  an  application  of  the  dynamical  axiom,  that  action 
and  reaction  are  uniformly  equal  and  opposite. 

The  only  empirical  explanation  of  this  problem  which  has  been 
recently  given,  proceeds  upon  the  affirmation,  that  when  we  have 
observed  certain  phenomena  to  take  place  in  connection  with  cer- 
tain conditions,  this  observation  forms  a part  and  parcel  of  pur 
experience,  so  far  as  it  is  acquainted  with  the  things  in  question ; 
and  that,  as  we  cannot  transcend  our  experience,  we  must  neces- 
sarily imagine  those  things  always  to  present  the  same  phenomena 
for  the  future.  “ When  we  believe,”  says  Mr.  Lewes,*  “ that 
similar  effects  will  follow  whenever  the  same  causes  are  in  opera- 
tion, we  are  simply  believing  in  our  experience,  and  nothing  more. 
We  cannot  help  believing  in  our  experience — that  is  irresistible ; 
but  in  this  belief,  the  idea  of  either  past  or  future  has  nothing  what- 
ever to  do ; it  does  not  enter  into  the  belief.”  This  reasoning,  in 
fact,  takes  the  whole  thing  for  granted.  It  gratuitously  strikes  out 
all  reference  to  past  and  future — the  very  points  which  form  the 
whole  peculiarity  and  difficulty  of  the  problem — and  then  tacitly 
assumes,  that  our  experience,  which  is  and  ever  must  be  past,  be- 
comes absolutely  valid  for  all  futurity.  Hume’s  reasoning  with 
reference  to  the  theory  of  experience,  all  holds  good  against  this 
explanation ; he  saw  clearly  enough  that  our  belief  in  a past  fact 
could  not  become  a law  of  belief  for  futurity,  without  something 
besides  mere  experience  to  account  for  it.  But,  it  is  urged,  we 
cannot  transcend  our  experience,  and  therefore  we  must  conceive 
of  the  phenomena  just  as  we  have  witnessed  them.  We  affirm,  in 
reply  to  this,  that  we  can  transcend  our  experience  in  all  matters 

* Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,  vol,  iv.  p.  51. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


223 


of  a contingent  nature ; that  we  can  easily  imagine,  without  any 
contradiction,  that  fire  will  not  ignite  gunpowder,  or  that  the  sun 
will  not  rise  to-morrow.  The  thing  to  be  accounted  for  is — why, 
out  of  all  the  possibilities  of  the  case,  we  should  hold  fast  to  the 
precise  succession  of  events  we  have  once  witnessed,  and  feel  con- 
vinced that  it  and  no  other  will  recur.  Upon  no  ground  can  I see 
that  this  conviction  is  explained,  except  it  be  referred  to  a fixed 
principle  of  our  nature ; and  that  principle  we  have  now  grounded 
in  distinct  fact  of  man’s  self-consciousness.  I know  by  my  own 
consciousness,  that  the  power  of  my  will  resists  all  the  aggression 
of  other  powers  around  me  through  the  medium  of  the  nervous 
system : in  the  same  manner,  having  discovered  other  powers  acting 
on  the  same  principle  of  uniformity,  whether  in  reference  to  my- 
self or  each  other,  I now  see  the  law  of  my  own  consciousness 
operating  throughout  nature.  On  this  fact,  then,  is  grounded  our 
belief  in  nature’s  stability ; for  were  nature  to  operate  differently, 
the  very  law  of  forces  which  we  have  seen  to  be  in  operation, 
would  be  reversed. 

Against  this  theory  it  is  no  objection  to  say,  that  the  belief  in 
question  is  so  simple  and  immediate,  that  we  cannot  imagine  all 
this  inward  process  to  take  place  before  it  is  arrived  at.  It  must 
be  remembered,  that  all  our  faculties  operate  spontaneously,  long 
before  we  become  reflectively  conscious  of  their  operations ; and 
that,  however  complicated  the  process  may  be,  yet  there  is  no 
reason  why  it  may  not  have  taken  place  amongst  the  very  first 
efforts  of  the  infant  reason.  Of  course  we  do  not  regard  this  or 
any  of  our  primitive  judgments,  in  the  first  instance,  as  an  axiom 
of  universal  application  ; we  first  have  the  belief  in  the  particular, 
and  we  gradually  come  to  regard  it  more  and  more  universally 
until  at  length  it  appears  before  us  in  a full  axiomatic  form. 

The  more  I reflect  upon  the  whole  problem  that  has  just  been 
considered,  the  more  clear  does  it  seem  to  my  own  mind,  that  the 
foundation  principle  of  all  inductive  reasoning  can  be  traced  to  a 
primitive  fact  of  our  consciousness,  revealing  the  law  of  forces, 
whether  in  nature  or  in  the  soul.  I would  not,  however,  rest  the 
validity  of  the  great  axiom  of  induction  absolutely  upon  this  psy- 
chological theory ; for  on  whatever  theory  we  may  choose  to  ac- 
count for  it,  still  the  fact  remains  the  same,  that  the  idea  of  change 
or  of  phenomenon  necessarily  involves  and  suggests  that  of  a 
cause,  a purpose,  or  a sufficient  reason,  and  that  this  is  accompa- 
nied with  a full  conviction  of  the  stability  of  nature’s  operations. 


224 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Against  these  conclusions,  with  all  their  theological  consequences, 
it  is  in  vain  for  scepticism  to  level  its  shafts. 

The  philosophy  of  Hume,  as  a whole,  originated  and  fell  with 
himself.  A more  partial  and  less  daring  scepticism  might,  proba- 
bly, have  gained  many  followers ; but  it  is  the  inevitable  result  of 
every  system,  professing  universal  unbelief,  to  destroy  itself.  The 
man  who  by  any  process  of  reasoning  involves  every  portion  of 
human  knowledge  in  doubt,  instead  of  persuading  any  one  to  fol- 
low his  conclusions,  does  little  more  than  controvert  his  own  prin- 
ciples by  a “ reductio  ad  absurdum.”  The  real  effect  is  not  to 
make  us  doubt  the  validity  of  our  knowledge,  but  to  shake  our 
confidence  in  the  philosophical,  or  rather  unphilosophical  axioms, 
by  means  of  which  such  results  could  be  obtained.  “Universal 
scepticism,”  says  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  “involves  a contradiction 
in  terms.  It  is  a belief  that  there  can  be  no  belief.  It  is  an  at- 
tempt of  the  mind  to  act  without  its  structure,  and  by  other  laws 
than  those  to  which  its  nature  has  subjected  its  operations.  To 
reason  without  assenting  to  the  principles  on  which  reasoning  is 
founded,  is  not  unlike  an  effort  to  feel  without  nerves  or  to  move 
without  muscles.  No  man  can  be  allowed  to  be  an  opponent  in 
reasoning  who  does  not  set  out  with  admitting  all  the  principles, 
without  the  admission  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  reason.  It  is, 
indeed,  a puerile,  nay,  in  the  eye  of  wisdom,  a childish  play,  to  at- 
tempt either  to  establish  or  confute  principles  by  argument,  which 
every  step  of  that  argument  must  presuppose.  The  only  difference 
between  the  two  cases  is,  that  he  who  tries  to  prove  them,  can  do 
so  only  by  taking  them  for  granted ; and  that  he  who  attempts  to 
impugn  them,  falls  at  the  very  first  step  into  a contradiction,  from 
which  he  never  can  rise.”* 

Of  the  English  mysticism,  to  which  the  last  century  gave  rise, 
we  can  give  but  little  account,  inasmuch  as  it  flowed  more  into  the 
channel  of  religious  than  of  philosophical  speculation.  The  school 
of  Swedenborg  made  some  advancement  in  our  own  country,  as  it 
did  in  other  parts  of  Europe,  and  numbered  a few  cultivated  minds 
amongst  its  supporters.  But  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury was  the  period  in  which  the  community  began  to  be  aroused 
from  its  religious  lethargy  to  a new  life  and  energy ; and  what- 
ever tendency  there  might  have  been  to  seek  for  truth  in  the  deep- 
er feelings  of  our  spiritual  natui'e,  it  all  flowed  into  the  stream  of 
religious  excitement,  which  then  became  so  much  broader  and 

* See  “ Dissertation  on  the  Progress  of  Ethical  Science.”  Art.  Hume. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


225 


deeper  than  it  had  been  for  ages  before.  The  belief  in  Divine 
influence  strongly  characterized  that  movement,  and  the  habit  of 
looking  within  and  reading  the  heart’s  religious  experience  was 
constantly  encouraged  ; so  that  an  element  was  at  work,  more  or 
less,  throughout  the  whole  of  society,  that  necessarily  took  the 
place  of  those  inward  impulses,  which,  if  not  placed  under  the 
guidance  of  Christianity,  would,  in  all  human  probability,  have 
developed  themselves  in  the  rise  of  philosophical  mysticism. 

Here,  then,  we  close  what  is  more  directly  the  historical  portion 
of  our  subject.  We  have  traced  the  progress  of  sensationalism 
and  idealism  up  to  the  age  in  which  we  live,  and  seen  the  different 
forms  of  scepticism  and  mysticism  to  which  their  mutual  contests 
have  given  rise.  Our  next,  and  still  more  important  task  will  be, 
to  exhibit  in  its  various  movements  the  advancement  which  the 
human  reason  has  made  during  that  half  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
which  has  now  arrived  almost  at  its  termination. 

15 


PART  II. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE 
NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

Before  we  pi'oceed  onwards  with  our  history,  and  bring  it  over 
the  threshold  of  the  present  century,  we  must  make  a brief  pause, 
in  order  to  take  a compendious  view  of  the  ground  we  have  now 
hastily  travelled  over,  and  to  collect  together  the  results,  which 
may  have  been  gathered  up  on  the  way.  Looking  at  the  philoso- 
phy of  modern  times  in  connection  with  that  which  for  almost  two 
thousand  years  had  preceded  it,  we  see  it  bearing  the  marks  of  an 
independence  which,  since  the  days  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  had 
been  altogether  unknown.  The  scholastic  ages  in  particular  were 
marked  by  a well-nigh  slavish  deference  to  authority,  an  authority 
which  was  balanced  with  some  degree  of  equality  between  Aris- 
totle on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Pope  on  the  other.  Philosophy 
during  this  period  was  content,  not  only  to  be  held  in  leading- 
strings,  but  to  be  nurtured  and  instructed  by  dogmatic  theology,  as 
an  obedient  child  by  its  parent  or  guardian.  It  was,  at  present, 
timid  in  all  its  movements,  feeble  in  its  efforts,  and  felt  so  much 
the  need  of  extraneous  support,  that  it  willingly  allowed,  and  even 
sanctioned,  an  appeal  to  those  masters,  who,  the  one  in  the  ancient 
the  other  in  the  modern  world,  had  succeeded  in  gaining  the  confi- 
dence, and  then  in  subduing  the  reason  of  mankind. 

The  Reformation  was  a revolt  against  authority ; it  presented 
the  spectacle  of  the  human  reason  once  more  asserting  its  inde- 
pendence, and  indignantly  bursting  the  chains  by  which  it  had  so 
long  been  bound ; for  whether  we  regard  the  movements  which 
then  took  place  in  the  religious,  the  political,  or  the  philosophical 
world,  they  are  all  alike  characterized  by  the  same  determination 
to  shake  off  the  trammels  of  servitude,  to  which  the  will  of  hu- 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


227 


manity  had  during  many  past  ages  submitted.  It  was  the  sixteenth 
century  which  witnessed  the  main  heat  of  the  battle  of  reform ; 
then  it  was  that  events  which  had  long  been  brooding  over  society 
came  to  their  crisis  ; then  that  authorities  which  had  before  been 
only  doubted,  were  openly  disavowed ; then  that  the  first  over- 
throw of  intellectual  and  spiritual  despotism  was  both  given  and 
received. 

The  seventeenth  century  presented  another  new  page  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind.  The  arm  of  Bacon  had  given  the  first  fatal 
stroke  to  the  authority  of  Aristotle,  and  had  stripped  the  laurels 
from  the  brows  of  the  hitherto  invincible  heroes,  who  had  taught 
the  trivium  and  quadrivium  of  human  learning ; but  it  was  not 
in  the  power  of  any  one  man  to  tear  up  all  the  ramifications  into 
which  the  roots  of  the  middle-age  philosophy  had  extended  them- 
selves, and  to  reap  even  the  first-fruits  of  the  principles  he  might 
succeed  in  establishing.  This  was,  in  fact,  the  mission  which  the 
whole  of  the  seventeenth  century  had  to  perform.  Accordingly, 
as  in  the  department  of  politics,  it  was  chiefly  occupied  in  shifting 
the  old  and  worn-out  institutions  of  the  dark  ages ; as  in  the  de- 
partment of  religion,  it  was  employed  in  defining  the  power  and 
authority  which  in  matters  of  faith  the  individual  mind  ought  to 
possess,  and  of  which  it  had  been  unrighteously  plundered ; so  also 
the  main  efforts  of  philosophy,  during  that  century,  were  expended 
in  clearing  away  the  rubbish,  which  scholasticism  had  heaped  up 
in  the  path  of  its  successful  advancement.  So  diligently  was  this 
object  pursued  by  the  Hobbists  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Carte- 
sians on  the  other,  that  before  the  century  came  to  its  close  the 
worthless  material  of  the  old  and  crumbled  edifice  of  the  scholas- 
tics had  well-nigh  vanished,  and  the  foundations  were  already  laid 
for  a new  species  of  philosophy,  grounded  not  upon  the  syllogism, 
but  upon  the  analysis  of  thought.  As  a proof  of  this,  be  it  remem- 
bered, that  it  was  during  the  seventeenth  century  that  Locke  fur- 
nished the  principles  of  the  modern  sensationalism,  and  Leibnitz 
the  data  which  afterwards  expanded  into  all  the  phenomena  of  the 
German  idealism.  We  may  say,  then,  in  few  words,  that  the  six- 
teenth century  pulled  down  the  scholastic  edifice,  leaving  it  a mass 
of  ruins ; and  that  the  seventeenth  cleared  the  ground,  and  laid  the 
foundations  for  our  modern  philosophy. 

We  now  see  the  eighteenth  century  ushered  in  under  the  most 
favorable  auspices,  and  wait  accordingly  to  inquire  what  was  the 
office  it  had  to  perform  in  the  development  of  philosophical  truth. 


228 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


That  office,  in  brief,  was  not  to  pull  down,  but  to  rear  up.  The 
new  foundations  being  already  laid,  the  new  systems  sketched  out, 
it  had  to  test  the  data  upon  which  they  proceeded,  to  expand  and 
mature  their  results,  and,  lastly,  to  show  their  bearing  upon  all  the 
various  departments  of  human  knowledge.  One  thing  especially 
was  achieved  by  this  age,  towards  the  independence  of  the  human 
mind ; and  that  was  the  withdrawment  of  philosophy  from  the 
authority  of  revelation,  and  the  due  assignment  to  each  of  their 
respective  limits.  Bacon  and  Descartes,  although  they  were  the 
first  great  abettors  of  the  spirit  of  independence,  yet  never  got  be- 
yond the  influence  of  their  theological  system,  or  dared  to  assert 
for  the  child  they  had  reared  a complete  freedom  from  all  dogmatic 
restraint.  Locke  and  Leibnitz  certainly  evinced  a far  greater 
philosophical  purity,  both  io  the  method  they  pursued  and  the  fun- 
damental principles  they  asserted,  but  it  was  not  until  the  eigh- 
teenth century  had  brought  those  principles  to  their  maturity,  that 
the  authority  of  revelation  in  the  department  of  philosophy  was 
altogether  overcome,  and  each  was  left  to  perform  its  own  part, 
and  cast  its  own  portion  of  light  upon  mankind. 

The  eighteenth  century,  in  thus  placing  philosophical  reasoning 
upon  its  true  footing,  succeeded  in  exhibiting  both  the  excellencies 
and  the  defects  of  the  various  systems  which  the  renewed  energy 
of  the  human  mind  had  originated.  The  service  rendered  thereby 
to  the  advancement  of  human  knowledge  was  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance. The  state  of  philosophy  previous  to  this  trial  which  it 
underwent,  had  been  anything  but  satisfactory ; many  of  the  pre- 
vailing systems  gave  such  a practical  exhibition  of  weakness  and 
insufficiency,  that  they  threatened  to  involve  society  at  large  in 
the  coldness  and  despair  of  universal  scepticism.  All  this,  how- 
ever, was  only  preparing  the  way  for  the  critical  philosophy  of  the 
Kantian  school,  and  in  so  doing  contributed  not  a little  to  bring 
metaphysical  speculation  into  a more  advanced  state.  The  writ- 
ings of  Kant,  therefore,  may  be  viewed  as  the  flower  of  the  phi- 
losophy of  their  age,  forming  in  truth  the  boundary  line  between 
the  metaphysics  of  the  last  and  those  of  the  present  century. 
Such  we  may  regard  as  an  abstract  of  the  advancement  of  philoso- 
phy from  its  revival  down  to  the  opening  of  the  century,  in  which 
we  are  now  living. 

It  is  not  enough,  however,  for  us  here  simply  to  take  this  super- 
ficial view  of  the  progress  of  speculative  science  during  the  two 
last  eventful  centuries ; we  need  to  look  more  closely  into  the 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


229 


nature  of  the  speculations,  with  which  they  were  filled,  and  to  see 
in  what  manner  they  attempted  to  solve  the  great  problems  about 
which  philosophy  is  conversant. 

All  intellectual  philosophy  of  a fundamental  character  turns 
upon  the  two  poles  of  thought  and  existence.  Thought  represents 
the  subject,  existence  the  object ; and  the  whole  problem  of  philos- 
ophy is  to  analyze  the  phenomena  of  the  former,  and  then  to  de- 
termine what  they  unfold  to  us  respecting  the  latter.  There  is  a 
world  of  thought  within  us — there  is  a world  of  existence  about 
us  ; what  then  is  the  exact  relation  which  the  one  of  these  poles 
of  philosophy  holds  to  the  other?  Are  thought  and  existence 
eternally  opposed,  or  is  there  any  point  in  which  they  perfectly 
coincide  ? Can  thought  ever  be  shown  to  be  an  attribute  of  being, 
or  can  we  trace  existence  up  to  that  degree  of  sublimation  where 
its  very  essence  seems  to  be  Thought  itself?  Here,  then,  are  the 
two  data  of  all  speculation — a subject  and  an  object — conscious- 
ness with  its  phenomena,  and  being  with  its  essential  attributes — 
a self,  and  a not  self.  All  philosophy  works  upon  these  materials, 
tries  to  understand  them,  to  unfold  their  relations,  if  possible,  to 
trace  them  to  the  point  where  they  originate  and  where  they  unite. 
Such  a point,  it  is  true,  we  may  not  be  destined  by  scientific  de- 
duction ever  to  reach ; but  still  it  is  to  the  clearer  development  of 
this  problem  that  the  tide  of  human  speculation  must  ever  per- 
petually roll  forward.  Chemical  analysis  may  never  discover  the 
ultimate  unity  of  matter — physiology  may  never  arrive  at  the  vital 
principle ; still  to  these  points  they  are  ever  struggling  to  attain. 
In  the  same  manner,  speculative  philosophy  aims  at  deducing  the 
one  great  principle  of  the  universe,  and  the  nearer  it  gets  to  it  the 
more  perfect  does  it  become. 

Let  us  look  to  the  history  of  this  problem  in  modern  times.  The 
middle  ages  pursued  the  investigation  of  it  in  their  own  peculiar 
manner.  All  the  speculation  of  the  scholastic  philosophers,  it  is 
well  known,  clustered  around  two  centres — first,  the  ideal  system 
of  Aristotle,  which  was  no  other  than  an  attempt  to  show  the  re- 
lations of  thought  and  existence  with  regard  to  our  sense-percep- 
tions ; and,  secondly,  the  controversy  of  the  nominalists  and  the 
realists,  which  was  simply  to  determine  the  point  whether  the  real 
essence  of  external  things  is  given  in  the  impression  they  make 
upon  us  through  the  senses,  or  in  the  general  idea  we  form  of  them 
by  the  reason.  In  both  cases,  therefore,  the  problem  was  to  solve 


230 


MODER^  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  mutual  relations  which  thought  and  existence  hold  to  each 
other. 

This  question,  then,  we  may  consider,  was  handed  over  unde- 
termined to  the  speculators  of  more  modern  times  ; and  the  differ- 
ent methods  of  viewing  it  give  us  the  key  to  the  two  opposed  sys- 
tems of  philosophizing,  with  which  our  modern  history  is  ac- 
quainted. The  one  system  starts  with  this  problem — Given,  the 
real  phenomena  of  existence,  to  deduce  from  thence  the  nature 
and  varieties  of  our  thoughts  and  ideas.  The  other  reverses  the 
question,  and  puts  it  in  this  manner — Given,  the  phenomena  of 
our  own  minds,  to  deduce  from  thence  the  reality  and  the  nature 
of  the  world  without.  The  one  commences  with  the  objective, 
and  deduces  from  it  the  subjective ; the  other  starting  from  the 
subjective,  seeks  to  deduce  the  objective.  If  we  take  the  simple 
product  of  sense  as  the  starting-point,  and  from  that  construct  the 
world  of  ideas,  our  philosophy  is  of  the  former  kind,  and  must  be 
entirely  empirical ; if  we  begin  with  our  own  mental  conceptions, 
and  from  them  construct  the  world  without,  our  philosophy  is  of 
the  latter  kind,  and  must  be,  to  a greater  or  less  extent,  rational- 
istic. 

Hobbes  and  Gassendi,*  followed  up  by  Locke,  took  the  empir- 
ical direction,  and  from  the  analysis  of  sensation  attempted  to 
account  for  the  whole  mass  of  our  ideas.  According  to  the  two 
former,  man  is  entirely  material,  and  all  his  mental  phenomena 
consequently  nought  but  corporal  affections  ; according  to  Locke, 
however,  human  thoughts  are  inward  images  (ideas)  of  outward 
things — sometimes  simple  representations  as  in  perception,  and  at 
other  times  modified  representations  as  in  reflection ; so  that  the 
relation  between  the  objective  and  subjective  world  is  here  per- 
fectly determined,  the  latter  being  only  a living  picture  of  the 


♦ There  has  been  much  dispute  as  to  the  real  opinions  of  Gassendi  upon  the  question 
of  Materialism.  That  he  was  not  a very  firm  materialist  is  evident  from  the  circum- 
stance that  his  views  on  this  point  have  been  so  much  contested.  At  the  same  time 
there  are  some  of  his  works  in  which  the  truth  of  the  materialist  hypothesis  is  main- 
tained too  clearly  to  be  misunderstood.  In  his  “ Disquisitio  Metaphysica,”  written  in 
opposition  to  Descartes,  the  sensational  tendency  of  his  philosophy  is  pecularly  mani- 
fest. “ It  remains  to  be  proved,’’  he  says,  (vol.  ii.  p.  183,)  “ that  the  faculty  of  thinking 
is  so  far  removed  above  the  corporal  nature,  that  the  animal  spirits  cannot  receive  such 
a character  as  to  be  rendered  capable  of  thought.”  A little  further  on  he  says  that  we 
may  conceive  of  mind  “ as  a pure,  clear,  subtile  substance,  which  spreads  itself  like  a 
wind  over  the  whole  body.”  The  same  conclusion  only  can  be  drawn  from  his  argu- 
ment respecting  the  idea  of  body  possessing  extension,  (p.  273,)  and  that  likewise 
concerning  the  union  of  mind  and  body,  where  he  says — “ All  union  must  be  produced 
by  the  very  close  and  intimate  contact  of  the  things  united.  But  how  could  such  a 
union  take  place  without  body  7"  The  retort  of  Descartes  is  well  known,  who,  to  the 
satirical  exclamation  of  Gassendi,  “O,  anime!”  replied,  “ O,  carol  ' 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


231 


former,  and  all  truth  consequently  consisting  in  the  inward  repre- 
sentation, or  idea,  being  perfectly  correct.  The  sceptical  results 
which  Hume  drew  from  this  position  were  opposed  on  the  part  of 
the  Scotch  metaphysicians,  by  giving  to  certain  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  belief  an  independent  subjective  existence,  by  denying 
the  doctrine  of  representative  knowledge,  and  thus  disturbing  the 
fixed  relation  of  causality,  which  Locke  and  others  had  instituted 
between  the  outer  and  the  inner  world.  The  successors  of  Locke, 
however,  both  in  France  and  England,  went  resolutely  forward  in 
the  direction  that  was  pointed  out  for  them,  until  they  landed  in 
pure  materialism — a doctrine  in  which  thought  and  existence  are 
made  identical,  not  by  tracing  both  up  to  their  common  source, 
but  by  cancelling  all  that  is  peculiar  to  the  former,  by  making  the 
mind  itself  merely  a piece  of  material  organization,  and  mental 
phenomena  nothing  but  the  motion  of  its  particles.  The  climax 
of  this  school,  therefore,  was  to  solve  the  great  problem  of  philos- 
ophy, by  blotting  out  one  of  its  terms,  and  to  regard  matter  as  the 
only  absolute  and  self-existent  reality.  Such  was  the  result  of  the 
empirical  theory  ere  the  eighteenth  century  came  to  its  close. 

Descartes  was  the  founder  of  the  opposed  or  rationalistic  method 
of  philosophizing.  The  relation  between  thought  and  existence  was 
in  his  case  expressed  by  the  position  “ Cogito  ergo  sum,”  a sentence 
in  which  the  reality  of  existence  was  made  to  flow  as  a direct  in- 
ference from  the  phenomena  of  consciousness.  Whether,  there- 
fore, thought  can  be  identified  with  existence  or  not,  yet  this  much 
at  any  rate  is  clear  upon  the  Cartesian  principle,  that  all  our 
knowledge  of  the  latter  must  be  involved  in  our  consciousness  of 
the  former,  that  all  ontology  has  its  roots  in  psychology.  Spinoza, 
however,  carrying  out  the  fundamental  principle  of  Cartesianism, 
asserted  the  universal  identity  of  thought  and  existence,  deferring 
them  both  alike  to  the  “ ens  realissimum,”  the  one  universal  sub- 
stance of  which  thinking  and  extension  are  only  different  modi. 
Hence  the  rationale  of  his  assertion  of  the  perfect  parallelism  be- 
tween the  inward  processes  of  thought,  and  the  outward  processes 
of  nature. 

Leibnitz,  perceiving  that  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza  must  super- 
induce the  most  rigid  fatalism,  and  ultimately  tear  up  the  roots  of 
all  morality  and  religion,  introduced  the  element  of  power  into  all 
the  individual  existences,  of  which  he  supposed  the  universe  to  be 
composed,  and  by  so  doing  changed  the  stern  mathematical  view 
of  Spinoza  into  the  more  pliant  and  accommodating  form  of  a dy- 


232 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


namical  theory.  If  all  things  are  modes  of  the  Divine  Being, 
(Leibnitz  contended,)  they  must  each  and  all  contain  the  element 
of  freedom,  which  is  absolutely  inherent  in  Deity,  and : conse- 
quently every  atom  or  monad  must  comprehend  the  principle  of 
its  own  self-development.  What  is  a monad  but  a power,  acting 
according  to  the  laws  impressed  upon  it  by  the  Deity ; and  what 
is  thought  but  the  expression  of  that  power,  in  the  case  of  monads 
which  have  attained  to  the  elevation  of  self-consciousness  ? His 
whole  system  of  monadology  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  an  an- 
swer to  the  inquiry  of  speculative  philosophy,  respecting  the  rela- 
tions of  thought  and  existence  in  the  universe,  constituting,  in  fact, 
one  of  the  most  ingenious  methods  ever  devised  for  tracing  them 
both  up  to  one  fundamental  principle. 

Wolf  gave  the  principles  of  Leibnitz  popularity  and  extension, 
by  systematizing  and  arranging  them ; but  instead  of  expanding 
the  fruitful  germs  of  thought  which  that  master-mind  had  thrown 
out,  he  elaborated  carefully  the  form  of  his  philosophy,  and  neg- 
lected the  essence.  Wolfism  was,  perhaps,  the  most  complete  at- 
tempt which  was  ever  made  to  ground  an  entire  system  of  ra- 
tional philosophy  upon  the  ordinary  principles  of  logical  reasoning ; 
and  if  nominal  definitions  could  give  a perception  of  the  real  na- 
ture of  the  things  defined,  nothing  more  satisfactory  and  complete 
could  be  wished  for,  than  the  Encyclopeedia  of  philosophy  which 
he  originated.  It  sought,  however,  to  solve  the  problem  of  meta- 
physics simply  by  the  analysis  of  our  processes  of  thought,  and 
never  succeeded  in  finding  a valid  passage  from  thence  into  the 
world  of  objective  reality.  Comparing,  then,  the  views  of  Hartley 
and  Priestley  on  the  one  hand,  with  those  of  Spinoza  and  Leibnitz 
on  the  other,  we  see  that  the  great  question  of  speculative  philos- 
ophy was  brought  to  a solution  by  the  two  opposed  methods  of 
philosophizing  in  two  altogether  different  ways.  By  the  material- 
ists, it  was  solved  by  making  thought  synonymous  with  matter  in 
some  of  its  peculiar  affections ; by  the  idealists,  on  the  other  hand, 
by  making  matter  homogeneous  with  thought,  and  accounting  for 
the  common  principle  of  both,  by  means  of  a pantheistic  doctrine, 
or  a theory  of  monadology. 

It  was  just  at  this  point  that  Kant,  seeing  the  errors  which  ex- 
isted on  both  sides,  came  forward  with  his  reform,  and  by  a search- 
ing criticism  of  man’s  cognitive  faculty,  showed  how  impossible  it 
was,  by  any  process  whatever,  to  arrive  at  a scientific  knowledge 
of  absolute  existence  at  all.  With  regard  to  material  existence. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 


233 


he  proved  that  we  can  never  go  beyond  phenomena,  so  that  actual 
experience  here  marks  the  furthest  limits  of  our  knowledge.  With 
regard  to  the  pure  conceptions  which  the  reason  strives  to  form 
respecting  the  essence  of  the  soul,  or  the  universe,  or  the  Deity, 
he  showed  that  these  were  all  based  upon  fallacious  conclusions  ; 
so  that  the  main  result  of  his  Critick  was  to  cut  off  the  possibility 
of  our  ever  coming  (upon  philosophical  principles)  to  the  point 
from  whence  thought  and  being  alike  spring,  and  where  they  are 
both  identical.  Kantism,  therefore,  was  the  destruction  of  meta- 
physics, properly  so  called ; it  removed  the  ground-problem  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  human  faculties,  and  sought  to  silence  all  onto- 
logical speculation  for  the  future.  Instead,  however,  of  altogether 
denying  the  absolute  in  human  knowledge,  JKant  admitted  it  in 
connection  with  those  subjective  and  regulative  principles  of  the 
human  mind,  which,  though  wanting  objective  reality,  yet  may  be 
regarded  as  absolute  to  man,  so  long  as  he  retains  his  present  mode 
of  existence.  The  attempts  of  the  rationalistic  method,  then,  to 
solve  the  problem  of  philosophy,  as  far  as  the  eighteenth  century 
was  concerned,  ended  in  a well  nigh  completed  system  of  subjec- 
tive idealism.  Whatever  of  absolute  was  admitted  at  all  on  scien- 
tific grounds,  was  confined  to  the  human  subjectivity ; and,  there- 
fore, if  the  paradox  can  be  allowed,  was  regarded  as  a relative  ab- 
solute. This  conclusion  of  the  Kantian  metaphysics  would  have 
involved  the  whole  philosophy  of  their  illustrious  author  in  the 
darkness  of  a most  rigid  scepticism,  had  their  effects  not  been  con- 
travened by  the  authority  of  the  practical  reason.* 

These  different  and  unsuccessful  attempts  to  fathom  the  depths 
of  thought  and  existence,  together  with  the  contradictory  conclu- 
sions which  they  gave  rise  to,  necessitated  the  appearance  of  scep- 
ticism, which  from  time  to  time  either  laughed  or  reasoned  down 
whatever  was  untenable  in  the  different  philosophies,  to  which  it 
was  chiefly  opposed ; and  then  mysticism,  still  grasping  after  truth, 
but  distrusting  the  more  rational  methods  of  attaining  it,  strove  to 
dictate,  as  from  some  inward  oracle,  the  fundamentals  of  human 
knowledge,  as  belonging  to  a region  too  lofty  for  the  wings  of  reason 
ever  to  reach. 

* This  view  of  the  problem  of  philosophy  has  been  brought  out  with  great  clearness 
by  the  Hegelian  school.  Hegel,  it  is  contended,  had  alone  reached  the  climax.  In 
him,  subject  and  object,  thought  and  existence,  are  absolutely  one.  Fichte  found  a 
subjective  idealism,  in  which  the  me  was  the  worLd-aU.  Schelling  created  an  objective 
idealism,  in  which  thought  appears  only  as  one  of  the  developments  of  nature.  In 
Hegel’s  absolute  idealism  alone  the  two  terms  are  retained,  but  their  unity  demon- 
strated. On  this,  see  Michelet’s  “ Geschichte  der  letzten  Systeme,”  p.  12,  et  seq. 


234 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


These,  therefore,  are  the  four  elements  which  were  brought  over 
from  the  preceding  ages  to  the  nineteenth  century ; and  it  is  the 
history  of  their  further  progress,  and  of  their  various  modifications 
as  manifested  within  that  portion  of  it  which  has  already  passed, 
to  which  we  have  now  more  especially  to  direct  our  attention. 
Whenever,  therefore,  we  find  the  principle  asserted,  that  truth  is 
discoverable  by  the  human  faculties,  but  that  it  must  all  ultimately 
rest  upon  the  experience  of  the  senses  as  its  foundation,  we  shall 
regard  this  as  a manifestation  of  empirical  or  sensational  philos- 
ophy. When,  on  the  contrary,  we  discover  attempts  to  unfold 
truth  grounded  upon  the  native  powers  of  the  reason,  we  shall 
attribute  such  attempts  to  the  rationalistic  method,  or  as  we  have 
termed  it,  to  the  philosophy  which  is  characterized  by  the  idealis- 
tic tendency.  When,  again,  the  power  of  discovering  absolute 
truth  is  altogether  disowned,  we  shall  recognize  in  such  disavowal 
the  spirit  of  scepticism ; and  when,  lastly,  the  capacity  of  man’s 
natural  faculties  to  attain  it  being  denied,  some  other  element 
within  us  is  pointed  out  as  supplying  the  deficiency  both  of  rea- 
son and  sense,  whether  that  element  be  faith,  feeling,  or  direct 
illumination,  we  shall  refer  such  principles  to  the  operation  of  mys- 
ticism. 

Errors  we  shall  have  to  point  out  in  all  the  schools ; but,  not- 
withstanding these,  we  shall  be  quite  sure  to  find  some  benefits  con- 
ferred by  each,  so  far  as  it  has  been  a real  and  earnest  striving 
after  knowledge.  Accordingly,  after  the  analysis  which  each  sys- 
tem has  afforded  of  the  materials  that  lie  peculiarly  within  its  own 
province,  we  shall  only  have  to  look  for  an  eclectic  philosophy, 
that  will  combine  the  results  of  the  whole,  and  indicate  the  ad- 
vancement which  the  nineteenth  century  has  made  in  the  develop- 
ment of  metaphysical  truth. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MODERN  SENSATIONALISM. 

Hitherto  we  have  followed  pretty  closely  the  historical  order  in 
sketching  the  various  systems  of  philosophy,  which  appeared  from 
the  revival  of  the  speculative  spirit  in  Europe  down  to  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  century.  In  rendering  a faithful  ac- 
count of  the  philosophy  of  our  own  age,  it  will  not  be  possible  to 
follow  so  completely  as  we  have  done  the  chronological  flow  of 
events,  since  by  so  doing  we  should  prevent  the  possibility  of  giv- 
ing a classification  of  the  different  schools  grounded  upon  their 
proper  philosophical  characteristics.  In  France,  it  is  true,  and  to 
a great  extent  in  Germany,  the  development  of  speculative  opin- 
ions has  gone  on  with  so  regular  a step,  that  the  chronological  and 
the  philosophical  orders  in  some  measure  coincide ; in  these  cases, 
therefore,  we  are  not  obliged,  even  when  observing  the  latter  or- 
der, to  depart  very  widely  from  the  former.  In  England,  however, 
we  look  in  vain  for  any  progressive  school  of  metaphysics,  that  has 
been  steadily  advancing  as  the  age  has  rolled  round : we  see 
nought  but  isolated  effbrts,  many  of  which,  indeed,  are  not  want- 
ing in  some  of  the  best  characteristics  of  philosophical  thinking, 
but  which  have  far  too  little  connection  among  themselves  to  form 
what  we  might  term  an  independent  school  of  philosophy.  In  de- 
scribing these  effbrts,  it  will  not  be  our  object  to  collect  all  the 
works  and  name  all  the  authors  who  have  contributed  to  the  meta- 
physical literature  of  the  country  during  this  century,  since  the 
multiplicity  of  shades  which  their  opinions  present,  would  only  con- 
fuse the  reader  in  his  endeavor  to  make  a correct  estimate  of  our 
philosophy  as  a whole,  and  offer  very  little  instruction  in  return ; 
but  we  shall  rather  attempt  to  point  out  the  main  directions  in 
which  speculation  has  hitherto  seemed  to  flow ; and  we  shall  do 
this  by  bringing  forward  simply  the  more  prominent  writers  to 
whom  such  speculations  are  chiefly  indebted. 


236 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Sect.  I. — Of  Modern  Sensationalism  in  England. 

In  taking  a broad  view  of  the  different  shades  of  sensational 
philosophy  as  the  present  century  has  thrown  them  before  us,  it  is 
somewhat  difficult  to  find  a mode  of  classification,  by  which  we 
may  include  everything  that  bears  upon  it  a scientific  character. 
The  best  classification  we  have  been  able  to  make,  proceeds  upon 
the  principle,  that  there  are  just  three  different  directions  which  it 
is  possible  to  take,  and  which  different  writers  have  followed,  in 
erecting  a spirit  of  empiricism.  First,  there  are  some  who  have 
pursued  a purely  metaphysical  analysis,  and  attempted  to  show,  in 
this  manner,  that  every  notion  springs  from  the  senses  as  the  orig- 
inal channels  through  which  the  whole  material  of  thought  has 
been  supplied.  Secondly,  there  are  others,  who,  waiving  this  kind 
of  abstruse  analysis,  have  fixed  their  attention  upon  man’s  practi- 
cal life,  and  furnished  a whole  system  of  ethical  philosophy  grounded 
on  sensational  principles.  And,  thirdly,  there  are  others,  who 
commence  with  a physiological  investigation  of  the  human  frame, 
and  from  this  seek  to  deduce  the  nature  and  the  origin  alike  of  all 
mental  and  moral  phenomena.  Those  who  take  the  first  course, 
we  shall  term  sensational  metaphysicians ; those  who  follow  the 
second,  sensational  moralists ; while  the  third  class  may  be  desig- 
nated sensational  physiologists. 

(A.)  Sensational  Metaphysicians. 

In  beginning  with  the  consideration  of  the  first  of  these  classes, 
we  are  carried  back  at  once  to  the  writings  of  Locke,  as  the  model 
upon  which  this  kind  of  metaphysical  analysis  has  for  the  most 
part  been  formed.  We  have  already  shown  the  process,  by  which 
some  of  the  professed  adherents  of  Locke’s  philosophy,  both  in 
England  and  France,  strained  his  principles  beyond  their  just  limits 
into  materialism  itself  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that 
such  has  been  the  case  with  all  the  followers  of  this  school.  Sev- 
eral authors  have  appeared,  who  instead  of  hurrying  forward  into 
materialistic  conclusions,  have  determined  to  keep  more  closely  in 
the  path  which  was  trodden  by  the  master  himself,  and  have  con- 
tented themselves  either  with  furnishing  fresh  proofs  and  illustra- 
tions of  his  main  positions,  or  with  showing  more  fully  in  what 
way  our  more  purely  rational  notions  can  be  deduced  from  the 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


237 


original  intimations  of  sense.  In  England,  indeed,  Locke,  in  his 
own  genuine  character,  has  long  been  the  great  philosophical  au- 
thority ; and,  although  the  phraseology  of  our  metaphysical  writers 
has  more  recently  been  much  modified  by  the  school  of  Reid  and 
his  Scottish  followers,  yet  the  acute  analytic  spirit,  which  is  so  ob- 
servable in  Locke’s  own  writings,  has  in  some  striking  instances 
been  revived,  and  led  to  many  new,  though  similar,  speculations  on 
the  origin  of  our  ideas.  We  must  not  forget  to  mention,  however, 
the  very  observable  effect  of  Hartley’s  observations  respecting  the 
laws  of  association  upon  all  the  writers  of  the  Lockian  school 
since  his  time ; for,  although  in  many  instances  no  mention  has 
been  made  of  that  acute  writer,  yet  the  important  part,  which  is 
assigned  by  all  to  the  phenomena  of  association,  clearly  shows  us, 
how  much  is  owing  to  the  views  upon  this  subject,  which  he  was 
the  first  to  promulgate. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  English  writer  since  Locke  who  has  upon 
the  whole  theorized  with  so  much  ability  on  these  topics,  and  ana- 
lyzed our  mental  processes  upon  sensational  principles  so  acutely, 
as  the  late  Mr.  James  Mill,  author  of  “ An  Analysis  of  the  Phe- 
nomena of  the  Human  Mind,”  which  appeared  in  the  year  1829 
We  may  regard  this  author,  without  doubt,  as  standing  at  the  head 
of  the  sensational  metaphysicians  of  the  present  day,  and,  conse- 
quently, may  safely  use  his  writings  as  the  most  complete  existing 
representation  of  the  partial  success,  which  has  more  recently  at- 
tended philosophical  investigations  of  this  nature.  We  cannot  do 
better,  therefore,  under  the  present  head,  than  first  of  all  to  give  ’a 
brief  sketch  of  Mr.  Mill’s  method  of  analysis,  and  then  to  point 
out  in  what  respect,  under  the  view  of  another  and  more  spiritual 
system  of  philosophy,  it  may  be  regarded  as  unsatisfactory  and  in- 
complete. In  accomplishing  the  former  of  these  purposes,  every 
facility  is  offered  by  the  admirable  order,  brevity,  and  clearness, 
with  which  the  whole  work  is  pervaded,  and  which  leaves  hardly 
anything  to  be  desired  on  the  score  of  a philosophical  style  and 
arrangement.  In  accomplishing  the  latter,  we  shall  attempt  to  use 
that  impartiality,  which  is  becoming,  and,  indeed,  necessary  to  the 
attainment  of  truth  in  all  philosophical  discussions. 

Our  author  having  stated  that  the  main  object  of  the  philosophy 
of  the  human  mind  is  to  expound  the  more  complex  phenomena  it 
presents,  commences  by  laying  down  its  simple  states.  The  first 
and  foremost  of  these  are,  of  course,  sensations  ; respecting  which 
little«  if  anything,  new  is  said,  except  it  be  some  very  just  remarks 


238 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


upon  the  sensational  feelings  which  accompany  the  action  of  the 
muscles,  and  those  which  arise  from  the  alimentary  canal.*  Hav- 
ing finished  this  view  of  our  sensations,  he  next  comes  to  ideas, 
which  he  explains  to  be,  copies  or  traces  of  sensations  that  remain 
after  the  sensations  themselves  cease.f  Respecting  the  formation 
of  these  he  offers  no  theory,  but  only  states  the  fact  as  indisputa- 
ble, that  such  traces  do  exist.  These  two  classes  of  feeling,  then, 
form,  according  to  Mill,  the  whole  material  of  our  thoughts  and 
emotions,  they  form  the  basis  of  all  our  mental  operations. 

The  next  point  to  be  observed  is,  that  our  mental  phenomena 
do  not  recur  arbitrarily,  but  according  to  a certain  order  and  ar- 
rangement, the  law  of  which  is  termed  the  association  of  ideas. 
This  law  of  our  mental  constitution  is  shown  to  play  the  most 
momentous  part  in  man’s  intellectual  and  moral  development,  caus- 
ing our  ideas  to  cluster  together,  and  become  at  length  indissolubly 
united,  either  in  the  synchronous  or  successive  order,  according, 
of  course,  as  the  sensations,  of  which  they  are  copies,  have  been 
experienced  synchi'onically  or  successively.  In  the  former  case 
they  give  rise  to  complex  notions,  in  the  latter  to  trains  of  thought-X 

The  next  important  fact,  is  that  of  assigning  to  our  sensations 
and  ideas  certain  names,  in  order  that  we  may  communicate  them 
to  others,  or  retain  them  more  easily  for  ourselves ; under  which 
head  our  author  goes  into  a long  and  very  luminous  exposition  of 
the  origin  and  nature  of  the  various  parts  of  speech,  of  which  all 
language  consists.^  This,  then,  we  may  consider  as  the  ground- 
work of  Mill’s  whole  analysis,  the  elementary  processes  being  re- 
duced to  sensation,  ideation,  association,  and  naming.  The  rest 
of  his  work  is  occupied  in  showing  how  from  these  elements  all  the 
complex  phenomena  of  the  human  mind  may  be  fully  and  satisfac- 
torily explained.  Into  this  part  of  the  analysis  we  shall  now  briefly 
enter,  giving  the  principal  conclusions,  that  are  arrived  at,  in  our 
own  words. 

First  of  all,  consciousness,  inasmuch,  as  it  applies  generally  to 
every  mental  phenomenon,  is  simply  a generic  term,  under  which 
all  the  subordinate  classes  of  feeling  are  included ; which,  there- 
fore, can  no  more  contain  any  element  different  from  the  feelings 
themselves,  than  any  other  genus  can  contain  essentially  aught  that 
is  not  in  its  species. 1| 

* Chap.  i.  secs.  6,  7,  8.  f Chap.  ii.  p.  41.  | Chap.  iii.  throughout. 

^ Chap,  iv.,  which  contains  also  a long  section  on  Predication,  in  which  the  author 
gives  his  view  of  the  principal  processes  of  formal  logic. 

II  Chap.  V. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


239 


Conception  is  likewise  a generic  term,  only  less  extensive  than 
consciousness  ; inasmuch  as  the  latter  is  a universal  name  to  in- 
clude all  mental  phenomena,  whether  sensations  or  ideas,  while  the 
former  is  the  name  of  a class  of  phenomena  comprehending  ideas 
only.* 

Imagination  is  the  same  as  conception,  with  this  simple  differ- 
ence— that,  whereas  conception  is  applied  as  a generic  term  to 
mean  individual  ideas,  imagination  is  only  applied  to  trains  of 
ideas,  which  hang  together  by  the  law  of  association.  When  I am 
conscious  of  one  idea  in  the  mind,  I conceive ; when  I am  con- 
scious of  a succession,  I imagine. f 

Classification,  or  generalization,  a process  which  has  given  rise 
to  so  much  metaphysical  discussion,  is  easily  explained.  I give  a 
name  to  an  individual ; I then  apply  the  same  term  to  another  in- 
dividual of  a similar  kind ; then  to  a third,  and  a fourth,  and  so  on, 
until  the  term  by  the  indissoluble  law  of  association  calls  up  indefi- 
nitely any  of  the  individuals,  to  which  I have  severally  applied  it. 
Thus,  a general  term  is  not  the  mark  of  a reality,  as  the  realists 
supposed,  nor  is  it  a word  without  any  idea  attached  to  it  at  all, 
as  the  nominalists  assert ; but  it  is  the  mark  with  which  an  indefi- 
nite number  of  simple  ideas  is  associated,  and  under  which  they 
become  combined. J 

Abstraction  is  a somewhat  different  process.  We  experience  a 
given  sensation  in  connection  with  different  clusters  of  qualities,  as 
a black  man,  a black  horse,  a black  eagle  : we  give  this  sensation 
a name,  say  “ black,”  in  order  to  note  it,  and  we  connote  or  name 
with  it  the  particular  cluster,  to  which  in  any  given  case  it  is  ap- 
plied. In  some  instances,  however,  we  drop  the  connotation,  and, 
in  order  to  show  this,  we  add  some  mark  to  the  term  which  ex- 
presses the  original  sensation.  Thus  w'e  may  think  of  black, 
without  assigning  anything  which  is  black,  and  then  to  mark  the 
fact  of  all  connotation  being  dropped,  we  add  ness  to  it,  and  form 
the  abstract  term  blackness.  On  this  principle,  then,  abstractions 
are  simply  concrete  terms  with  the  connotation  dropped.^ 

Memory  is  an  important  phenomenon,  but  by  no  means  an  orig- 
inal faculty.  It  contains,  first,  the  idea  of  the  thing  remembered, 
and  secondly,  the  idea  of  my  having  seen  it.  The  former  element 
is  easily  accounted  for  by  association,  but  the  latter  element  is 
more  complex.  This  is  found,  on  analyzing  it,  to  consist  of  three 


240 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


things — the  present  or  remembering  self,  the  former  or  remem- 
bered self,  and  the  train  of  consciousness  which  intei'venes  between 
them,  and  identifies  the  two  selves  as  being  the  same  personality. 
To  explain  fully,  therefore,  the  nature  of  memory,  we  have  to 
await  the  analysis  of  the  ideas  of  personal  identity  and  of  time.* 
Belief  is  the  next  point  to  be  noticed,  which  is  of  three  kinds — 
Belief  in  events  or  of  real  existences,  belief  in  testimony,  and  be- 
lief in  the  truth  of  propositions.  The  first  kind  of  belief  is  a case 
of  very  close  and  immediate  association.  This  we  see  illustrated 
in  the  belief  of  our  acquired  perceptions,  where  we  indissolubly 
associate  certain  distances,  &c.,  with  certain  shades  of  coloring.f 
The  same  principle  holds  good  with  respect  to  our  belief  in  the 
existence  of  a cause  as  antecedent  to  every  effect,  and  of  matter 
as  the  ultimate  cause  at  which  our  association  stops.  J The  second 
kind  of  belief,  that  which  we  yield  to  testimony,  is  also  a case  of 
association,  depending  equally  upon  experience,  inasmuch  as  we 
firmly  associate  reality  with  that  species  of  testimony,  which  we 
have  previously  found  to  be  uniformly  true.§  The  third  kind  of 
belief,  that  of  the  truth  of  propositions,  is  synonymous  with  judg- 
ment, which,  in  fact,  is  nothing  more  than  our  recognition  of  the 
coincidence  that  exists  in  the  meaning  of  two  names.  Thus,  when 
I say,  “ Man  is  a rational  animal,”  I simply  recognize  the  fact,  that 
the  two  names,  man  and  rational  animal,  stand  for  the  same  thing.  1| 
Last  of  all,  ratiocination  is  to  be  regarded  as  a case  of  judgment 
in  its  most  perfect  and  extended  form,  which  thus  completes  the 
analysis  of  our  intellectual  powers,  and  reduces  them  all  to  the 
elements  which  we  have  just  before  indicated. *TT 

Having  finished  this  portion  of  his  task,  the  author  proceeds  to 
test  its  accuracy  by  investigating  those  terms,  which,  in  all  meta- 
physical systems  have  been  generally  considered  the  most  remark- 
able, as  well  as  most  difficult  of  explanation.  Beginning  with 
terms  which  express  relation,  as  those  employed  when  sensations, 
ideas,  or  external  objects  are  mentioned  in  pairs,  he  shows  the 
notion  of  a line,  to  be  involved  partly  in  the  sensations  of  touch, 
and  partly  in  those  of  a muscular  nature,  which  accompany  the 
extending  of  the  arm.**  The  notions  of  cause  and  effect  are  ex- 
plained to  be  synonymous  with  the  antecedence  and  consequence 

» Chap.  X.  p.  251 . t Chap,  x ;.  p.  259,  et  seq. 

± Chap.  xi.  p 263,  et  seq. 

§ Ibid,  p,  268,  el  seq.  See  also  here  the  expectancy  of  the  uniformity  of  nature’s 
opertlons  resolved  into  a case  of  association. 

II  Ibid.  p.  300.  TI  Chap.  xii.  **  Chap.  xiv.  p.  22. 


4 


SENSATIONALIsri  IN  ENGLAND. 


24i 


of  phenomena.*  The  idea  of  extension  is  supposed  to  be  a modi- 
fication of  those  sensations  by  which  we  conceive  of  lines  as  greater 
or  less ; and  then,  lastly,  those  abstract  terms  which  wo  apply  to 
objects  as  being  related  to  each  other  in  respect  of  quantity,  or 
quality,  are  so  analyzed,  as  to  appear  equally  dependent  with  the 
rest  upon  the  aid  of  experience-! 

Next  to  relative  terms,  he  proceeds  to  prove  that  numbers  are 
simply  marks  to  show  that  one  sensation  comes  after  another 
that  privative  terms  generally  are  merely  indicative  of  the  absence 
of  sensations,  or  rather  expressive  of  that  state  of  consciousness, 
which  the  absence  of  sensations  produces ; that  space  being  an 
instance  of  such  terms,  is  merely  the  privation  or  absence  of  bulk ; 
and  that  the  term  infinity  indicates  that  state  of  consciousness  in 
which  the  idea  of  one  unit  more,  if  it  be  number,  or  of  one  portion 
more,  if  it  be  extension,  is  closely  associated  with  every  preceding 
number  or  portion  that  has  gone  before  it.§  The  only  three  im- 
portant terms  that  now  remain,  are  time,  motion,  and  identity. 

Time,  according  to  Mr.  Mill,  is  derived  from  the  succession  of 
our  sensations.  In  this  succession  there  is  always  something  past, 
something  present,  and  something  future,  which,  by  dropping  the 
connotation  and  adding  the  sign,  gives  us  pastness,  presentness, 
and  futureness.  The  combination  of  these  three  gives  rise  to  all 
that  is  contained  in  our  idea  of  time.  It  is,  to  use  the  author’s  own 
language,  a single-worded  abstract,  involving  the  meaning  of  these 
three  several  abstracts. ||  Motion,  again,  is  the  abstract  idea  of  mov- 
ing. In  the  idea  of  a body  moving,  there  are  the  ideas  of  the  body 
itself,  of  position,  of  a line,  and  of  succession,  all  of  which  may  be 
accounted  for  on  sensational  principles.  Take,  then,  a number  of 
moving  bodies,  drop  the  connotation,  and  we  have  the  whole  idea 
of  motion.^  Lastly,  identity  is  merely  another  term  for  sameness, 
and  this  again,  is  simply  expressive  of  a certain  case  of  belief,  the 
evidence  of  which  varies  with  the  subject,  but  which  in  every  case 
arises  from  association,  and,  consequently,  from  experience.** 

With  regard  to  the  active  powers,  our  author’s  analysis  of  these 
is  equally  ingenious  with  that  of  the  intellectual.  Sensations  are, 
some  pleasurable,  and  others  painful : when,  therefore,  we  recall 
them,  the  ideas  they  give  rise  to  must  also  be  either  of  a pleasur- 
able or  painful  nature.  Our  state  of  consciousness,  however,  in 

f Chap.  xiv.  p.  39,  et  seq. 

^ Chap.  xiv.  sec.  4. 

**  Ibid.  sec.  7. 


* Chap.  xiv.  p.  37. 
^ Chap.  xiv.  sec.  3. 
II  Chap.  xiv.  sec.  5. 


IT  Ibid.  sec. 
16 


242 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  sensation  is  essentially  different  from  that  in  the  idea,  inasmuch 
as  we  cannot  revive  the  actual  pleasure  or  pain  which  were  caused 
by  the  bodily  affection,  but  only  the  recollection  of  them.  The 
idea  of  pleasure,  therefore,  in  contradistinction  to  the  sensation  of 
pleasure,  we  term  desire ; the  idea  of  pain,  aversion.* 

Sometimes,  again,  pleasure  or  pain  arises  from  an  immediate 
cause,  and  sometimes  from  a remote  : the  lash  of  the  excutioner  is 
an  instance  of  the  one,  the  sentence  of  the  judge  the  other,  since 
in  this  latter  case  the  pain  comes  at  one  remove  from  the  actual 
sensational  feeling.  In  the  same  manner  pleasurable  and  pain- 
ful ideas,  that  is,  desires  and  aversions,  often  come  from  remote 
causes,  while  they  derive  still  further  variations  from  being  con- 
templated as  past  or  future.  In  these  few  principles  we  have,  ac- 
cording to  Mill,  the  basis  of  all  the  passions,  desires,  and  emotions 
of  the  human  mind,  and  only  need  to  search  further  into  the  more 
remote  causes,  from  which  they  spring,  in  order  to  gain  a complete 
analysis  of  this  part  of  our  constitution. f 

Amongst  these  causes  we  find  that  certain  objects,  by  virtue  of 
particular  associations  with  them,  excite  in  us  the  feeling  that  we 
term  the  sublime  and  the  beautiful ; whilst  other  pleasurable  or 
painful  feelings,  which  arise  as  consequent,  either  upon  our  own 
actions  or  those  of  our  fellow-creatures,  have  acquired  the  name 
of  the  moral  sentiments.  Here,  therefore,  we  have  the  foundation 
of  all  assthetical  and  moral  philosophy.J 

With  regard  to  the  will,  which  is  usually  considered  as  consti- 
tuting so  large  an  element  in  our  moral  life,  our  author  considers 
that  it  is  synonymous  with  desire ; that  an  action  is  said  to  be  willed 
when  it  is  desired  as  the  means  to  a certain  end,  or  rather,  when 
it  is  associated  as  a cause  with  pleasure  as  the  effect ; and  that  the 
muscular  actions  of  the  body,  which  are  usually  termed  voluntary, 
are,  in  fact,  necessarily  consequent  upon  certain  sensations  or  ideas, 
which  we  can  only  control  through  the  medium  of  the  great  law 
of  association. § Such  is  a brief  and  necessarily  imperfect  outline 
of  Mill’s  analysis.  To  estimate  it  fully,  it  must  be  read  and  studied 
throughout ; but  yet,  the  above  sketch  may  be  sufficient  to  show 
the  kind  of  philosophy  which  it  advocates,  although  it  very  inade- 
quately conveys  the  arguments  by  which  it  is  supported. 

Now,  in  offering  some  remarks  upon  this  system,  we  must  first 
of  all  inquire,  what  the  starting  point  is  from  which  it  proceeds, 

t Chap.  xxi.  sec.  2. 

§ Chap.  xxiv. 


* Chap.  xix. 
^ Chap,  xxiii. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


243 


and  what  the  elements  which  are  taken  for  granted  as  being  pri- 
mary and  unresolvable  ; because  upon  this  first  step  the  whole 
character  of  any  philosophical  system  mainly  depends.  In  looking 
to  this  point  we  see  at  once,  that  the  phenomena  of  mind  in  the 
system  before  us  are  not  traced  to  a single,  and  uniform  source. 
The  French  sensationalists,  as  we  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to 
show,  started  with  the  simple  product  of  sense  as  the  sole  ground- 
work of  all  mental  manifestation,  and  attempted  to  prove  that  every 
phenomenon  is  a movement,  more  or  less  disguised,  of  this  one  fac- 
ulty. The  idealistic  philosophers,  again,  started  with  the  pure  con- 
ceptions of  reason,  and  attempted  to  build  up  the  whole  superstruc- 
ture of  knowledge  upon  this  basis.  In  the  work  before  us,  on  the 
contrary,  there  are  clearly  two  primitive  elements  brought  forward, 
sensations  and  ideas ; and  consequently  two  original  and  corres- 
ponding powers  of  mind,  namely,  sensation,  and  what  might  be 
analogically  termed  ideation.  Of  these,  however,  sensation  occu- 
pies by  far  the  superior  place,  inasmuch  as  it  furnishes  all  the  orig- 
inal materials  of  our  thoughts,  while  an  idea  is  taken  to  signify,  not 
(as  Locke  would  have  it)  everything  about  which  the  mind  can  be 
occupied,  but  simply  the  traces  of  our  sensations,  which  are  left, 
after  the  outwax'd  cause  is  removed. 

Now,  in  this  admitted  faculty  of  forming  ideas  of  things,  there  is 
more  involved,  we  imagine,  than  seems  in  the  work  before  us  to  be 
supposed.  E.  g.  Instead  of  reducing  such  faculties  as  memory 
and  judgment  to  the  two  elements  above  stated,  (that  of  sensations 
and  ideas,)  we  much  doubt  whether  they  are  not  involved  as  sim- 
pler elements  in  the  process  of  ideation  itself.  An  idea,  it  is  af- 
firmed, is  the  trace  or  copy  of  a sensation,  and  it  is  essential  to  it, 
on  this  principle,  that  we  should  recognize  it  as  being  the  represen- 
tative of  the  original  or  sensational  feeling,  otherwise  the  inward 
idea  could  have  no  practical  I'eference  to  any  outward  reality.  But 
the  question  is,  how  am  I to  know  without  the  aid  of  memory,  that 
there  ever  was  a sensation  which  preceded  it ; ox',  in  other  w'ords, 
how  am  I to  refer  the  state  of  consciousness  in  which  I exist  when 
I have  an  idea,  to  a former  state,  in  which  I existed,  when  I had  a 
sensation  ? In  order  to  know  that  the  idea  has  anything  to  do  with 
a previous  sensation,  thex’e  must  be  a consciousness  of  the  fact  that 
something  was  in  my  mind,  as  well  as  the  fact  that  something  is  in 
it ; and  to  know  this  requires  the  power  we  term  memory — a power 
which  consciously  connects  the  past  with  the  present,  and  without 
which,  consequently,  it  is  impossible  f >r  the  theory  of  ideation  to 


244 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


be  complete.  Again,  if  an  idea  be  a trace  or  relic  of  a sensation, 
the  knowledge  of  this  involves  not  only  memory,  but  also  a compar- 
ison between  two  states  of  consciousness.  If  no  comparison  is 
made,  how  am  I justified  in  saying  that  my  idea  is  a trace  of,  or 
has  anything  to  do  with,  a sensation  ? but  if  a comparison  is  made, 
then  there  must  be  some  mental  power  or  process  by  which  such 
relations  are  observed,  and  this  process  we  term  judgment.  By 
no  conceivable  method  could  memory  and  judgment  arise  simply 
from  the  successive  consciousness  of  sensations  and  ideas  ; for  those 
successive  states  of  mind  must  have  eternally  remained  separate 
and  isolated  points  in  our  being,  had  not  the  power  of  memory  and 
the  power  of  judgment  united  them  into  a continued  and  connected 
stream  of  conscious  existence.  We  cannot  but  suspect,  therefore, 
that  Mr.  Mill  explained  the  simple  by  the  complex,  rather  than  the 
complex  by  the  simple. 

Empirical  writers,  in  fact,  are  perpetually  addicted  to  the  habit 
of  regarding  our  sensations  as  though  they  were  already  notions, 
and  cancelling  that  whole  process  of  the  intellect  which  takes  place 
between  the  bare  sensational  feeling  and  the  complete  idea,  when 
put  into  such  a form  as  to  make  a distinct  element  in  our  knowl- 
edge. A sensation  is  but  the  consciousness  of  the  moment : it  is 
an  evanescent which  lasts  only  while  the  organ  is  affected, 
and  then  is  completely  and  forever  gone.  To  form  a notion,  these 
evanescent  feelings  are  grasped,  combined,  and  shaped  into  certain 
moulds,  by  the  intellectual  or  constructive  faculty,  just  as  the  shape- 
less particles  inserted  in  the  kaleidoscope  are  thrown  into  their  sev- 
eral forms  by  the  inward  construction  of  the  glasses.  Take  any 
notion  as  an  example — say  a house.  Mere  sensation  cannot  ac- 
count for  this.  As  a sensation,  it  would  be  simply  a subjective 
feeling — a momentary  consciousness,  not  an  abiding  idea.  And  if 
it  cannot  be  an  idea  itself,  neither  can  its  trace  or  image  be  so.  To 
form  the  notion  of  a house,  I must  have  the  conception  of  an  ex- 
ternal object,  which  is  something  quite  different  from  the  sensa- 
tional feeling ; I must  view  it  as  occupying  space,  as  possessing 
quantity,  quality,  and  relations ; and  all  this  implies  an  intellectual 
process,  which  is  quite  lost  sight  of  by  those  who  speak  of  our  sen- 
sations as  giving  us  the  whole  conception  of  things  themselves. 
The  inward  or  intellectual  element,  in  short,  is  just  as  necessary  to 
the  existence  of  experience  as  the  outward,  or  sensational. 

The  whole  theory  of  ideation,  indeed,  is  grounded  on  a false 
and  illusive  material  analogy.  It  is  supposed  that  as  the  impres- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


245 


sion  of  an  object  upon  any  soft  material  remains  after  the  object 
is  gone,  so  the  impressions  of  our  sensations  remain  on  the  mind. 
We  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  any  such  impression  remains. 
My  idea  of  an  object  does  not  stand  to  the  sensation  of  it,  in  the 
relation  of  an  image  to  its  original.  The  true  statement  of  the 
case  is  this — that  when  the  sensational  feeling  is  produced  by  con- 
tact of  the  object  with  the  nervous  system,  the  understanding 
shapes  the  material  thus  afforded  into  a notion,  supplying  from  its 
own  constitution  the  mould  in  which  this  notion  is  to  be  thrown. 
Having  done  so,  the  notion  exists  in  the  mind  as  a part  of  our  ex- 
perience, and  can  be  recalled  by  the  aid  of  memory  at  any  future 
period,  whenever  the  laws  of  association  may  prompt. 

From  the  consideration  of  the  human  faculties  we  now  come  to 
the  deduction  of  our  purely  intellectual  notions.  And  here  there 
are  still  greater  objections  that  arise  against  the  conclusions  of  the 
work  before  us.  In  this  department  of  his  analysis  the  peculiar 
theory,  which  is  maintained,  of  cause  and  effect,  lies  at  the  founda- 
tion of  almost  all  the  other  results.  Mr.  Mill  considered  it  proved 
beyond  the  possibility  of  a doubt,  nay,  since  the  days  of  Brown,  to 
have  become  almost  axiomatic,  that  cause  and  effect  imply  nothing 
more  than  uniform  precedence  and  consequence.  This,  however, 
must  be  regarded  as  far  too  bold  and  hasty  an  assumption,  when 
we  consider  that  the  doctrine  referred  to  is  denied  almost  univer- 
sally by  the  German  metaphysicians ; when  we  hear  one  of  the 
greatest  thinkers  of  our  day  calling  it  “ a fantastical  theory  which 
gives  a denial  to  universal  belief  and  to  facts ; a theory  destructive 
of  all  true  metaphysics  and  when  we  find  even  the  first  natural 
philosopher  of  the  age  describing  Brown’s  theory  as  one,  “ in  which 
the  whole  train  of  argument  is  vitiated  by  one  enormous  oversight, 
the  omission,  namely,  of  a distinct  and  immediate  personal  con- 
sciousness of  causation  in  his  enumeration  of  that  sequence  of 
events,  by  which  the  volition  of  the  mind  is  made  to  terminate  in 
the  motion  of  material  objects.''^  We  contend,  as  will  be  more 
fully  explained  elsewhere,  that  the  conscious  effort  of  -our  own  will 
gives  us  the  distinct  idea  of  power  in  causation,  which  then  be- 
comes to  us  the  type  of  those  vast  ever-working  powers  of  the 
universe,  by  which  we  are  surrounded,  the  foundation  of  our  con- 

* See  Victor  Cousin,  in  his  Preface  to  the  “ Remains”  of  M.  de  Biran. 

f See  Sir  ,Tohn  Herschel's  Treatise  on  Astronomy,  in  the  “ Cabinet  Cyclop.,”  p.  23‘2. 
We  may  here  remark,  that  it  has  of  late  years  become  very  common  amongst  many 
writers  to  assume  the  truth  of  Brown’s  theory  as  altogether  unquestionable,  and  as 
being  universally  admitted.  We  know  not  whether  to  attribute  this  assumption  to 
ignorance,  or  to  sophistry — it  seems  hard  to  account  for  it  upon  any  third  principle. 


24G 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


fitlence  in  the  uniformity  of  nature,  and  the  basis  of  our  belief  in 
the  great  First  Cause  of  all  things. 

If,  therefore,  the  fundamental  principle,  on  which  so  much  is 
built  up,  is  shaken,  the  analysis  of  some  other  of  our  most  impor- 
tant ideas  becomes  vastly  modified.  Let  us  take  that  of  substance, 
which  our  author  conceives  to  be  a case  of  indissoluble  associ- 
tion,  arising  from  the  inveterate  habit,  we  have  gradually  formed, 
of  assigning  a ground  or  cause  to  all  phenomena.  According  to 
this  theory,  we  may  talk  about  clusters  of  sensations,  but  to  talk 
about  substance,  matter,  substratum,  or  anything  of  this  kind,  is 
merely  giving  objective  existence  to  a pure  imagination  of  oui 
own  minds.  “To  each  of  the  sensations,”  says  Mr.  Mill,  “which 
we  receive  from  a particular  object,  we  annex  in  our  imagination 
a cause,  and  to  these  several  causes  we  annex  a cause  common  to 
all,  and  mark  it  with  the  name  substratum.”*  We  have  arrived, 
therefore,  if  this  be  true,  at  pure  Berkeleian  idealism,  and  the 
sceptic  may  now  come  and  chastise  us  for  our  folly  in  believing 
anything  so  unreal  as  a material  world.  The  philosophy  that 
commences  in  pure  sensationalism  has  no  choice  but  to  end  in  an 
idealistic  scepticism.  The  extremes  of  both  systems  hei'e  meet 
in  one. 

But,  we  doubt  not,  our  author  would  have  practically  repudiated 
these  sceptical  conclusions,  and  protested  that  he  was  far  from  re- 
jecting the  real  existence  of  matter  as  something  over  and  beyond 
our  perception  of  qualities.  On  what  ground,  then,  would  he  make 
this  protest  ? Is  it  sufficient  to  say  that  his  association  of  ideas  is 
so  strong  that  he  cannot  help  assigning,  as  antecedent  or  cause  to 
such  associations,  something  that  reallij  exists?  Is  it  not  clear 
that  the  sceptic  may  shatter  this  argument  at  once  by  assigning  a 
thousand  strong  associations,  to  which  no  reality  whatever  can  be 
attached  ? Has  not  many  a man,  for  example,  closely  associated 
with  his  fear  at  being  alone  in  the  dark  the  conception  of  a goblin 
or  ghost  ? Why  is  it,  then,  that  he  still  holds  to  his  practical  con- 
viction of  a material  world,  while  he  laughs  at  the  goblin,  both 
being  similarly  cases  of  strong  association  ? It  cannot  be  because 
the  association  in  the  one  instance  is  so  much  stronger  than  in  the 
other,  for  such  is  not  actually  the  case.  Should  we  not  rather 
say,  “My  belief  in  a material  world  is  simple  and  indestructible,  it 
can  be  traced  back  to  my  earliest  conscious  being,  it  has  never 
been  strengthened  by  accumulated  associations,  never  weakened 
* Chap.  xi.  p.  263,  et  seq. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


247 


by  any  subversive  arguments,  nay,  it  is  a necessary  element  in  the 
relation  I feel  between  my  conscious  self,  and  that  around  me 
which  is  not-self ; between  the  subjective  and  the  objective  ele- 
ment in  every  sensation,  I have  experienced,  from  my  earliest  ex- 
istence to  the  present  hour.” 

Instead,  therefore,  of  reducing  perception,  as  Mr.  Mill  does,  to 
a case  of  strong  association,  we  contend,  with  the  philosopher  of 
Scotland,  that  it  implies  the  existence  of  another  faculty  higher 
than  sensation ; that  it  contains  a primitive  judgment,  in  which 
the  idea  of  substance  is  involved  without  the  aid  of  association  at 
all.  The  whole  doctrine  of  belief  in  real  existences,  as  here  stated, 
proceeds  upon  the  supposition  that  it  is  the  superior  vividness  of  the 
idea,  or  strength  of  the  association  that  constitutes  our  confidence 
in  objective  reality.  These  two  facts,  however — 1st,  that  the  most 
insignificant  sensation  brings  conviction,  while  the  most  vivid 
pictures  of  imagination  do  not ; and,  2dly,  that  one  single  case 
of  conjunction  produces  belief  in  the  relation  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect, as  firmly  as  a thousand — can  never  on  this  hypothesis  be 
adequately  explained.  And  even  supposing  the  ideas  above  re- 
ferred to,  to  be  explained  by  means  of  association,  still  it  must  be 
remembered  that  association  itself  implies  certain  deeper  laws,  by 
which  its  exercise  is  regulated.  So  that  after  all  the  labor  that 
has  been  expended  upon  the  attempt  at  reducing  all  the  more 
complex  phenomena  of  mind  to  this  one  principle,  we  must  fall 
back  at  last  upon  the  fundamental  laws  of  belief,  by  which  that 
very  principle  operates.* 

To  go  at  length  over  the  analysis  of  the  other  notions  which  are 
adduced,  such  as  infinity,  time,  space,  &c.,  would  carry  us  further 
into  the  discussion  of  these  questions  than  is  compatible  with  our 
present  plan.  It  has  been  one  of  the  many  grand  results  of  a 
spiritual  and  more  reflective  philosophy,  however,  to  show,  that 
the  idea  of  the  absolute  plainly  marks  one  great  division  of  our 
knowledge ; that  the  infinite  stands  in  such  a manner  opposed  to 
the  finite,  as  that  the  conception  of  the  former  must  necessarily  be 
involved  in  the  latter ; and  that  time  and  space  are  both  particular 


* “ To  me  it  appears  evident  that  association  itself,  how  comprehensive  soever  it 
may  be,  is  only  a particular  law,  regulated  by  the  still  more  comprehensive  and  indeed 
universal  laws  of  human  belief.  * * Is  it  not  obvious  that  our  associations  themselves 
are  necessarily  regulated  by  these  primary  laws  1 Is  not  the  relation  of  cause  and 
effect  one  of  those,  by  which  our  ideas  are  associated  I And  do  we  not  associate  cer- 
tain feelings  with  certain  external  phenomena,  because  these  do,  first  of  all,  by  their 
very  nature,  suggest  the  existence  in  which  we  believe  I”  Young’s  “ Lectures,”  lee. 
xxix.  p.  29‘2. 


248 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


modifications,  which  the  notions  of  the  finite  and  infinite  undergo. 
To  any  theory,  like  that  of  Mill’s,  which  places  the  idea  of  body, 
substance,  or  bulk  at  the  foundation  of  that  of  space,  there  lies  the 
insuperable  objection,  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  body  at  all  ex- 
cept as  it  exists  in  space ; and  that,  although  we  may  require  to  be 
brought  into  contact  with  body  prior  to  our  forming  the  conception 
of  space,  yet  that  logically  the  former  must  be  posterior  to,  because 
it  involves  the  notion  of,  the  latter.  In  the  same  manner,  against 
any  theory,  which  reduces  time  simply  to  the  succession  of  events, 
there  lies  the  similar  objection,  that  if  you  take  away  the  notion  of 
duration,  no  succession  is  possible,  inasmuch  as  all  succession  im- 
plies continued  duration  between  the  points  of  consciousness,  just 
in  thei  same  manner  as  body  implies  continued  space  between  the 
atoms  of  which  it  is  composed.  Time  and  space,  therefore,  are  a 
•priori  intuitions,  which  are  absolutely  necessary  as  elements  in  all 
our  experience.  The  former  gives  us  the  sphere  of  all  inward,  the 
latter  of  all  outward  observation  ; time  being  that  in  which  all  the 
flow  of  our  thoughts  must  take  place ; space  being  that  in  which 
all  external  objects,  to  our  perception,  must  exist.  As  to  the  no- 
tion of  identity  or  self,  we  should  argue  that  this  too  cannot  be 
deduced  from  experience,  because  it  is  already  implied  in  every 
act  of  consciousness.  Without  this  notion  there  would  be  no 
unity  in  our  sensations  or  ideas,  no  chain  to  bind  them  together ; 
our  conscious  existence  would  be  only  a series  of  unconnected  im- 
pressions, and  the  experience  of  the  last  hour  might  belong  to  a 
different  being  from  that  of  the  present.  While,  therefore,  we 
cannot  but  read  with  much  admiration  many  of  the  acute  and  able 
analyses  of  notions,  with  which  the  work  we  are  considering 
abounds ; yet,  in  those  cases  where  our  primitive  judgments  and 
the  ideas  flowing  from  them  are  concerned,  we  cannot  but  con- 
sider, that  the  author  has  been  led  astray  from  the  truth  by  the 
sensational  theory  he  was  laboring  to  sustain. 

The  view  which  Mr.  Mill  has  taken  of  the  intellectual  powers 
could  not  but  have  some  influence  upon  his  theory  of  the  emotions. 
Sensations  and  emotions  are  regarded  by  him  as  generically  sy- 
nonymous, so  that  the  feeling  produced  by  the  lash  of  an  execu- 
tioner, and  that  produced  by  the  sentence  of  the  judge,  are  each 
spoken  of  as  a sensation,  the  one  arising  from  an  immediate,  the 
other  from  a remote  cause.  These  two  classes  of  feelings,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  regard  as  vastly  dissimilar.  The  one  arises  imme- 
diately from  the  presence  of  an  external  object,  the  other,  being  an 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


249 


emotion,  has  no  immediate  connection  with  such  object ; the  one 
feeling  springs  from  without,  the  other  from  within ; the  one  fol- 
lows upon  an  affection  of  the  nerves,  the  other  from  a conception 
of  the  mind ; the  one  is  entirely  uncontrollable  so  long  as  the  bodily 
affection  lasts,  the  other  is,  to  a great  extent,  under  the  dominion 
of  the  will.  The  only  sensation,  which  the  judge  produces,  is  oc- 
casioned by  the  air  set  in  motion  by  his  organs  of  speech  acting 
on  the  tympanum  of  the  prisoner’s  ear ; but  it  is  the  meaning  of 
the  words  he  utters,  acting  upon  the  intellect,  that  sends  a thrill  of 
shuddering  emotion  through  his  frame.  We  can  conceive  of  no 
system  of  psychology  rendering  an  adequate  view  of  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  our  nature,  unless  the  broad  line  of  distinction  is  plainly 
marked  between  the  sensitive  and  the  emotional  faculty.  This 
might  be  shown  far  more  clearly  in  the  case  of  the  moral  emotions 
than  any  other ; into  these,  however,  we  shall  now  forbear  to  enter, 
inasmuch  as  the  ethics  of  sensationalism  will  come  more  fully  be- 
fore us  in  the  next  section. 

There  is  one  point,  however,  we  would  further  touch  upon,  and 
that  is  the  account  which  our  author  gives  us  of  the  will.  Accord- 
ing to  this  account,  it  seems  to  us  impossible  to  avoid  drawing  the 
conclusion,  that  human  life  is  altogether  the  sport  of  circumstantial 
fatalism.  The  elements  of  volition,  on  his  theory,  are  sensations, 
ideas,  and  motives,  leading  lastly  to  muscular  movements  of  the 
frame.  First,  I experience  a sensation ; next,  I am  conscious  of 
this  sensation  leaving  its  trace  behind  it,  and  forming  an  idea ; 
thirdly,  the  power  of  association  comes  to  bear  upon  the  matter, 
and  leads  me  to  connect  certain  actions  of  my  own  as  causes, 
with  pleasure  as  the  result,  which  is  all  that  we  mean  by  a motive ; 
then,  lastly,  the  internal  feeling  of  pleasure,  I experience,  produces 
the  muscular  movements  which  we  know  to  accompany  volition. 
Every  step  in  the  process  of  human  action  as  here  described,  it 
will  be  seen,  is  passive  and  uncontrollable.  The  sensation  is  so  in 
the  first  instance,  the  idea  is  so  in  the  next,  that  peculiar  associa- 
tion by  which  a desire  or  motive  is  created  is  so  in  the  third,  and 
the  power  which  our  internal  feelings  have  over  the  muscular 
frame  is  so  in  the  last.  The  defect  in  the  process  here  described 
is  what  Sir  J.  Herschel  terms  the  “ enormous  oversight”  of  leaving 
out  our  distinct  and  personal  consciousness  of  causation.  Every 
man  assuredly  acts  on  the  conviction,  that  he  is  in  himself  a finite 
power,  or  cause  of  such  a nature,  that  he  can,  if  he  choose,  oppose 
the  instinctive  impulses  of  sense,  and  modify  outward  circum- 


250 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


stances  by  his  own  voluntary  determination.  Amidst  all  the  in- 
fluence ol'  external  agents  upon  us,  we  still  feel  perfectly  conscious, 
that  we  can  originate  action  from  within,  that  we  can  form  pur- 
poses, stay  their  execution,  make  a final  determination,  and  then 
pass  from  the  inward  volition  to  the  outward  execution,  which  ex- 
ecution again  we  can  continue  or  suspend  by  means  of  the  same 
will  which  gave  it  a commencement.  The  human  mind,  there- 
fore, is  something  independent  of  its  circumstances ; it  is  a spon- 
taneous, self-regulating  existence — a distinct  personality,  the  very 
essence  of  which  consists  in  activity.  Accordingly  the  funda- 
mental error,  as  we  think,  of  all  systems  of  sensationalism,  consists 
in  taking  for  granted,  that  mind,  until  the  channels  of  sense  convey 
to  it  life  and  feeling,  is  a nonentity,  or  at  any  rate  a mere  passive 
entity ; whilst  in  fact  we  can  no  more  conceive  of  it  without 
thought  and  action,  than  we  can  of  matter  without  figure  and  ex- 
tension. This  point,  however,  will  again  recur,  so  that  we  shall 
for  the  present  pursue  it  no  further. 

The  only  other  thing,  we  have  now  to  remark,  is  the  total  silence 
which  is  observed  by  our  author  upon  man’s  religious  faculty 
That  the  existence  of  God,  the  infinite  essence,  the  “ causa  causa- 
rum,”  could  not  be  deduced  on  the  principles  laid  down  in  the 
work  before  us,  is  manifest ; because  even  if  we  possessed  the  dis- 
tinct conception,  its  whole  objective  reality  would  be  destroyed  by 
reducing  it,  as  must  be  the  case,  to  a strong  instance  of  the  power 
of  association,  leading  us  to  assign  a cause  to  all  phenomena.  That 
the  religious  emotions,  moreover,  must  in  this  philosophy  all  be 
considered  as  purely  pathological,  is  equally  clear,  because  emo- 
tions and  sensations  are  viewed  as  being  altogether  homogeneous. 
We  see  no  room,  therefore,  in  the  system  of  psychology  we  have 
just  considered,  for  any  of  the  more  lofty  and  spiritual  phenomena 
of  human  nature.  The  soul  fettered  down  to  sense,  can  only  live 
in  the  present ; its  noblest  conceptions  are  but  the  images  of  sen- 
sual objects ; its  highest  perception  of  moral  law,  is  but  a calcula- 
tion of  pleasure  and  pain  ; the  foundations  of  religion,  so  far  as  they 
depend  upon  our  rational  ideas  of  God,  of  Duty,  of  Immortality, 
are  undermined ; and  the  holy  stream  of  disinterested  love  to  God, 
in  which  the  weary  spirit  finds  its  only  rest,  is  dried  up  at  the  very 
fountain.  Whether  the  author  would  have  sanctioned  such  infer- 
ences, I have  no  means  whatever  of  judging ; but  unless  I have 
greatly  mistaken  his  principles,  the  application  of  correct  logic 
must  necessarily  bring  such  conclusions  sooner  or  later  to  light. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


251 


The  whole  of  our  objections,  then,  may  now  be  concentrated  in 
a single  remark.  The  author,  it  is  evident,  fixed  his  attention  upon 
one  of  the  great  fundamental  facts  of  our  consciousness,  that  of 
finite  nature  operating  upon  us  through  the  channels  of  sense.  In 
looking  steadfastly  to  this  fact,  he  doubtless  succeeded  in  analyzing 
many  phenomena,  that  might  otherwise  have  eluded  all  observa- 
tion ; but  in  the  meantime  he  entirely  lost  sight  of  the  other  two 
fundamental  notions,  those  of  the  active  self  and  the  infinite. 
Through  the  omission  of  these  elements  he  reduced  our  pure  and 
primitive  ideas  to  the  character  of  mere  abstractions,  and  the  en- 
ergy of  the  will  to  that  of  a passive  sensational  feeling. 

The  error  committed  is  the  exact  opposite  of  that  which  Kant 
committed  before  him.  The  German  philosopher,  in  discovering 
all  the  forms  of  the  understanding,  neglected  sufficiently  to  ana- 
lyze the  matter ; the  English  philosopher,  on  the  contrary,  in  direct- 
ing his  attention  almost  exclusively  to  the  matter,  well  nigh  entirely 
neglected  the  form.  Many  thanks,  however,  are  still  due  to  him 
for  his  labors,  inasmuch  as  they  give  one  tack  to  the  vessel  in 
which  the  world’s  philosophy  is  sailing,  which,  while  it  takes  that 
vessel  for  a time  from  its  true  course,  will,  nevertheless,  aid  in 
bringing  it  at  last  so  much  further  on  its  way  to  the  land,  where 
truth  reposes.  Analysis,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  to  be  close 
and  penetrating,  must  give  rise  to  error  as  well  as  to  truth  ; it  only 
needs  an  enlightened  eclecticism  to  grasp  the  one,  and  to  reject 
the  other. 

We  have  entered  into  Mr.  Mill’s  analysis  somewhat  more  fully 
than  we  should  have  done,  (considering  that  our  design  is  to  give  a 
brief  historical  sketch  of  the  different  systems  of  philosophy  with 
their  comparative  merits,  rather  than  to  dwell  at  length  upon  the 
works  of  particular  authors,)  because  it  is  so  able  a representative 
of  the  advanced  school  of  Locke,  as  existing  in  England  during 
the  present  century.  Not  that  we  mean  to  say,  that  Locke  and 
Mill  in  all  respects  coincide.  So  far  from  that,  the  points  of  differ- 
ence are  very  considerable,  and  on  many  questions,  as  that  of  the 
classification  of  the  intellectual  powers,  quite  dissimilar ; but  still 
both  the  method  and  the  nature  of  the  analysis  so  closely  resemble 
each  other  in  the  two  cases,  that  they  are  at  once  seen  to  belong 
to  the  same  school  of  philosophy. 

The  precise  position  which  Mill  would  take  in  the  scale  of  sen- 
sationalism, is  about  midway  between  Locke  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  French  Ideologists  on  the  other.  The  latter  of  these  regard 


252 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


all  mental  operations  as  being  different  forms  of  sensation ; the 
former,  although  looking  upon  the  senses  as  the  primary  source 
from  whence  the  material  of  our  knowledge  is  derived,  yet  strongly 
asserts  the  existence  of  certain  active  faculties,  by  which  this  ma- 
terial is  moulded ; the  author  now  before  us,  differing  from  both, 
admits  only  sensations  and  ideas,  comprehending  under  these  more 
than  the  French  philosophers,  but  by  no  means  so  much  as  our 
great  English  metaphysician  would  contend  for.  Other  writers  of 
the  same  class  have  wavered  somewhere  between  these  two  points? 
but  they  all  retain  such  a degree  of  resemblance  to  each  other, 
that  to  adduce  them  here  would  be  only  to  reproduce  similar  doc- 
trines under  varied  foi'ms,  and  then  to  urge  against  them  similar 
objections ; neither,  indeed,  were  we  to  attempt  it,  could  we  bring 
forward  any  authors,  who  have  set  forth  the  main  doctrines  them- 
selves with  so  much  clearness  and  force  of  reasoning,  as  the  one 
we  have  already  examined. 

There  is  one  work,  however,  recently  published,  of  such  great 
and  unquestionable  merit,  that  it  were  wrong  to  omit  a distinct 
mention  of  it,  in  estimating  the  sensational  phenomena  of  the 
age — I mean  a work  entitled,  “ A system  of  Logic  Ratiocinative 
and  Inductive,”  by  John  Stuart  Mill.  The  author,  it  is  true,  aims 
simply  at  discovering  and  expounding  the  proper  methods  of  inves- 
tigating truth,  without  pledging  himself  to  any  system  of  specula- 
tive philosophy ; but  still  there  are  so  many  points  of  a speculative 
nature  touched  upon,  all  in  the  spirit  of  the  “ Analysis  ” above 
' considered,  that  he  must  necessarily  be  regarded  as  a partisan  of 
! the  modern  Lockian  school  of  metaphysics.  The  evidences  of 
his  adherence  to  this  school  are  scattered  more  or  less  throughout 
the  whole  work.  Let  us  adduce  one  or  two  examples. 

First,  in  his  discussion  of  the  real  meaning  to  be  attached  to  the 
term  substance,  he  embraces  the  opportunity  of  placing  the  science 
of  ontology  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  faculties.* 
Not,  indeed,  that  he  has  pretended  to  enter  into  the  full  merits  of 
the  case,  since  that  would  have  been  foreign  to  the  object  of  his 
whole  work;  but  the  view  he  takes  of  the  question,  “en passant,’’ 
implies,  that  we  have  no  right  to  assume  any  conception  as  assert- 
ing objective  validity,  which  lies  (as  that  of  substance  does)  with- 
out the  range  of  our  sense-perceptions,  and  rests  upon  purely  ra- 
tional or  intuitive  evidence.  According  to  this  view  of  the  ques- 
tion, we  may  understand  somewhat  of  qualities,  since  they  come 
* Vol.  i.  p.  78,  et  seq. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


253 


to  us  as  actual  phenomena,  but  we  can  know  nothing  of  substance, 
since,  if  it  exist,  it  is  hidden  behind  a screen  of  impenetrable  ob- 
scurity. 

Now  we  believe  that  a thorough  analysis  of  the  case  will  show, 
that  reason  has  as  much  right  to  assure  us  of  the  nature  and  exist- 
ence of  being  or  substance,  as  perception  has  to  assure  us  of  the 
phenomena  we  term  qualities ; that  just  in  the  same  manner  as  we 
have  an  outward  intuition  of  the  one  by  the  senses,  so  we  have  an 
inward  intuition  of  the  other  by  the  reason.  The  cognizance  of 
attributes  by  perception  is  as  much  a subjective  process,  as  much  a 
part  of  my  inward  consciousness,  as  is  the  cognizance  of  matter 
or  substance  by  the  reason  ; and  if  we  deny  the  objective  validity 
of  the  latter,  there  is  no  superior  evidence  why  we  should  accept 
that  of  the  former.  As  well  may  we,  in  fact,  reject  the  reality  of 
any  quality  as  an  objective  phenomenon,  as  reject  the  substratum 
in  which  it  adheres.  We  know  the  properties  of  the  external 
world,  says  our  author,  because  we  have  sensations  which  imme- 
diately convey  them.  But  then,  what  are  sensations  except  states 
of  mind  ? If  a state  of  mind  termed  sensation  can  give  us  the 
knowledge  of  properties,  why  may  not  a state  of  mind  termed  in- 
tuition or  reason  give  us  the  knowledge  of  substance  ? Reason 
has  as  much  right  to  take  us  out  of  ourselves  as  perception,  and  if 
the  one  cannot  assert  objective  validity,  neither  can  the  other. 
Let  any  one  say,  therefore,  on  what  ground  we  can  believe  the  ex- 
istence of  anything  whatever  out  of  ourselves,  and  we  can  show 
him  the  same  ground  for  believing  in  the  reality  of  substance — 
let  any  one,  moreover,  show  on  what  principle  we  can  comprehend 
the  nature  of  any  objective  reality,  and  we  can  show  the  same 
principle  of  comprehension  with  reference  to  substance.  There 
is  no  valid  medium,  therefore,  as  it  seems  to  us,  between  complete 
subjective  idealism,  like  that  of  Fichte  on  the  one  side,  and  the  ad- 
mission of  ontology  as  a proper  branch  of  scientific  investigation 
on  the  other.  So  long  as  we  keep  within  the  subjective  circle,  we 
are  pure  subjective  Idealists ; but  once  without  it,  we  have  the 
same  access  to  being  as  to  mere  phenomenon,  that  is,  we  have 
simply  the  guarantee  of  our  faculties  for  either. 

Another  very  decisive  proof  of  the  author’s  sensational  ten- 
dency is  found  in  his  support  of  Brown’s  theory  of  causation.*  In 
no  work  with  which  we  are  acquainted  is  the  law  of  causality  so 
ingeniously  and  plausibly  traced  to  experience  as  in  this ; and  in 
* Vol.  I.  Book  iii.  chap.  5. 


\ 


254 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


none  is  the  whole  theory  put  in  a more  forcible  and  unobjection- 
able light.  Ingenuity,  however,  though  it  may  mislead  for  a time, 
will  never  succeed  eventually  in  carrying  along  with  it  the  suf- 
frages of  mankind  against  the  fundamental  convictions  of  human 
nature.  Try  as  we  will  to  sink  all  idea  of  a real  connection  be- 
tween cause  and  effect,  the  belief  will  eternally  recur ; and  how- 
ever plausibly  the  theory  may  be  propounded,  yet  it  will  ever  be 
found  wanting  so  long  as  thei'e  is  left  out  in  the  analysis  the  one 
important  link  to  which  we  have  before  referred,  that  of  a personal 
consciousness  of  power. 

Instead,  then,  of  resting  the  evidence  of  the  law  of  causality  upon 
a simple  induction  of  empirical  facts,  we  should  trace  its  establish- 
ment to  a process  of  the  following  nature  : — Every  man,  when  he 
produces  change  upon  the  outer  world,  is  conscious  of  putting  forth 
Sl  power  in  volition,  which  power  is  exerted  upon  the  external  ob- 
ject. If  the  same  power  be  again  put  forth  in  similar  circum- 
stances, he  knows  intuitively,  that  the  same  change  will  take  place. 
Hence  the  notion  of  power,  put  forth  by  some  cause,  is  associated 
with  the  perception  of  every  effect ; and  the  force  emanating  from 
our  own  will  becomes  the  type  upon  which  we  conceive  of  power, 
as  universally  exerted  in  the  production  of  every  other  possible 
phenomenon.  Thus  the  law  of  causation  primarily  emanates  from 
our  own  volition,  and  being  expanded  by  the  aid  of  experience,  at 
length  assumes  the  form  of  a universal  principle,  applicable  to  all 
the  phenomena  of  the  universe.  To  this  subject,  however,  we 
shall  again  return. 

Another  aspect  of  Mr.  Mill’s  sensationalism  is  given  in  the  con- 
troversy with  Prof.  Whewell  respecting  the  foundations  of  mathe- 
matical reasoning.*  We  are  aware  that  the  side  he  defends  is  to 
a certain  extent  strengthened  by  the  name  of  Dugald  Stewart,  and 
some  other  writers  of  high  standing  in  the  philosophical  world  ; 
but,  nevertheless,  we  are  unable  to  confess  ourselves  convinced  by 
the  whole  line  of  argument  they  have  employed.  The  point  of  the 
controversy  is  this — What  is  the  ground  of  belief  in  mathematical 
axioms  ? Are  they  experimental  truths,  i.  e.,  generalizations  from 
experience,  or  are  they  necessary  truths,  arising  from  the  a priori 
intuition  of  the  human  reason  ? Mill  asserts  the  former  to  be  the 
case,  Whewell  contends  for  the  latter. 

The  discussion  of  the  question,  which  when  expanded  might 
occupy  a volume,  virtually  concentrates  itself  upon  two  points.  It 

* Vol.  I.  Book  ii.  chap.  5 and  fi. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


255 


is  argued,  first  by  the  spiritualist,  that  an  experimental  truth  must 
be  one  that  is  cognizable  by  the  senses ; and  that,  as  this  is  not  the 
case  with  mathematical  axioms  and  conceptions,  they  must  neces- 
sarily be  removed  beyond  the  limits  of  mere  empiricism.  Take, 
for  example,  the  axiom,  that  two  straight  lines  cannot  inclose 
space,  even  if  ihey  \>q  prolonged  to  infinity.  Were  this  a truth  of 
simple  observation  (it  is  contended),  we  could  never  be  assured  of 
its  accuracy,  because  we  can  never  see  an  instance  in  which  tjvo 
intersecting  lines  are  infinitely  produced.  Whence,  then,  comes 
the  conviction,  that,  supposing  them  to  be  so,  still  there  is  a neces- 
sity that  they  should  present  just  the  same  relative  properties  ? 
To  this  it  is  replied  in  the  work  before  us,  that  mathematical  truths 
’ are  such  as  can  be  painted  on  the  imagination  to  any  extent ; that 
although  we  can  never  see  two  lines  infinitely  produced,  yet  we  can 
conceive  them  to  be  so ; and  that,  by  a kind  of  internal  observation, 
we  become  convinced  that  they  will  always  hold  the  same  relations 
to  each  other,  as  by  the  aid  of  direct  sensation  we  perceive  them 
to  hold  on  a small  scale. 

That  there  is  some  ingenuity  in  this  theory  must  be  freely  ad- 
mitted, but  still  it  is  open  to  many  objections.  Let  us  allow,  for 
argument’s  sake,  that  a mental  picture  of  all  possible  lines  and  an- 
gles maybe  depicted  on  the  imagination.  This  picture  must  either 
represent  the  cases  which  fall  within  the  actual  limits  of  our  expe- 
rience, or  cases  which  lie  entirely  beyond  them.  The  former 
representation,  of  course,  may  be  referred  simply  to  the  power  of 
conception,  or  (as  Mr.  Mill  might  call  it)  ideation.  Its  result  is  an 
idea  made  from  the  direct  information  of  the  senses,  and  answering 
accurately  to  it.  So  far,  therefore,  there  is  nothing  to  serve  the 
cause  of  the  sensationalist ; as  all  would  admit  that  we  may  have 
an  experimental  idea  of  anything  of  which  we  can  have  a sensa- 
tion. If,  however,  we  depict  what  we  have  never  witnessed  “ in 
sensu,’’  (as,  for  example,  the  case  above  quoted,  of  two  intersecting 
lines  infinitely  produced,)  then  the  question  comes.  What  law,  or 
what  necessity  does  this  representation  follow  ? Mr.  Mill  would 
explain  it  by  saying,  that  the  actual  experience  we  have  in  the  one 
case,  leads  us  to  imagine  the  same  relations  to  hold  good  in  the 
other  case — that,  namely,  which  lies  beyond  experience.  But  here 
the  very  stress  of  the  difficulty  is  untouched,  for  the  inquiry  still 
returns — Why  should  our  imagination  be  thus  bounded  by  sense  ? 
— Why  are  we  necessitated  to  conceive  of  these  lines  and  angles  in 
definite  and  particular  relations  ? In  other  subjects  the  imagination 


256 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


roves  at  will,  and  forms  relations  entirely  at  variance  with  all  ex- 
perience. Objects  the  most  heterogeneous  are  linked  together  by 
the  wild  and  capricious  eflbrt  of  the  fancy.  Why  not  in  this  sub- 
ject also  ? Actual  experience,  it  is  allowed,  could  never  show  us, 
that  two  infinite  intersecting  lines  would  never  meet ; — why,  then, 
may  we  not  imagine  them  as  meeting ; or  on  what  is  grounded  the 
subjective  necessity  of  depicting  them  eternally  diverging  ? It 
appears  to  us,  that  there  is  but  one  explanation  of  the  matter, 
namely,  that  reason  forbids  it.  Once  get  beyond  the  bounds  of 
sense,  once  allow  the  conceptive  faculties  to  take  the  thing  into 
their  own  hands,  and  we  see  not  that,  in  this  case  more  than  in  any 
other,  they  would  be  bound  to  follow  the  dictates  of  experience,  or 
that  their  conceptions  can  properly  be  limited  by  anything,  except 
by  the  very  laws  of  our  mental  constitution. 

Let  any  one  ask  himself,  what  it  is  which  gives  us  the  conviction 
that  the  relations  of  the  experimental  case  will  precisely  answer  to 
those  of  the  imaginary  and  supersensual  ? It  is  not  enough  to  say, 
that  experience  forbids  the  supposition,  that  the  relations  should 
vary  in  the  two  instances,  for  with  the  latter  instance,  experience 
confessedly  has  nothing  to  do.  Such  a conviction  cannot  possibly 
arise  except  from  the  fact,  that  the  a priori  forms  of  the  under- 
standing itself  compel  us  to  conceive  of  the  relation  of  the  lines  in 
no  other  way,  whether  they  be  matters  of  experience,  or  whether 
they  be  not.  In  reply,  therefore,  to  Mr.  Mill’s  argument,  that  the 
relations  of  figures  lying  beyond  experience  are  imaginary  induc- 
^ tions  from  those  which  lie  within  experience,  we  urge  that  the 
moment  the  empirical  boundary  is  overstepped,  all  such  inductions 
must  be  valueless ; and  that  conviction  can  only  now  arise  from 
\\\Q  necessity  oi  the  case,  which  necessity  is  based  upon  the  ground- 
forms  of  the  understanding.  The  whole  argument,  in  fact,  that  we 
reason  in  mathematics  upon  figures  either  of  pure  sense,  or  drawn 
from  experience,  will  not  stand  the  test  of  any  careful  examination. 
Experience  could  never  give  us  perfect  lines,  triangles,  and  circles 
— to  the  senses,  they  must  all  have  breadth,  and  thickness,  and 
irregularity ; — and  yet  the  whole  of  the  reasoning  proceeds  upon 
the  very  hypothesis  of  their  absolute  perfection.  “ If  we  have  no 
experience  of  facts  relating  to  lines  without  breadth,  and  perfect 
circles,  we  cannot  possibly  have  experience  except  ivith  relation  to 
lines  possessing  breadth,  and  imperfect  circles,  &c.  But  as  things 
cannot  divest  themselves  of  any  of  their  properties,  we  can  only 
have  experience  of  things  as  they  are.  Experience  is  not  an  arbi- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


257 


trary  act  of  mind.  We  have  no  control  over  experience ; we  must 
take  it  exactly  as  it  presents  itself.  As  experience,  therefore,  can- 
not present  us  with  phenomena  divested  of  any  features  which  are 
inseparable  in  actual  fact  from  the  phenomena,  and  we  reason,  ac- 
cording to  our  author,  entirely  upon  experience,  if  we  attempt  to 
reason  with  respect  to  things,  feigning  them  to  be  divested  of  some 
of  their  properties,  we  reason  apart  from  experience,  i.  e.,  we  do 
what  we  never  do.”* 

We  must  come,  however,  to  the  second  great  argument  which 
the  spiritualist  employs,  that,  namely,  arising  from  the  universality 
and  necessity  of  mathematical  axioms.  These  two  attributes,  it  is 
argued,  could  never  flow  from  experience,  inasmuch  as  no  ex- 
perience can  extend  to  all  possible  cases,  and  become  the  voucher 
for  universal  and  necessary  truth.  To  this  Mr.  Mill  replies,  that 
the  necessity  of  a thing  simply  means  the  inconceivableness  of  its 
being  otherwise,  and  that  this  inconceivableness  all  arises  from  the 
strength  of  the  opposite  associations.! 

Now,  if  mere  association  can  produce  the  feeling  of  necessity 
and  universality,  respecting  which  we  are  treating,  then  it  must 
produce  it  alike  in  every  case,  where  the  association  has  been 
constant  and  uniform.  For  example,  we  have  always  associated 
snow  with  whiteness,  and  soot  with  blackness  ; according  to  Mill’s 
theory,  therefore,  we  ought  to  consider  the  one  necessarily  white, 
and  the  other  necessarily  black.  This  is  not,  however,  the  case  ; 
there  is  nothing  inconceivable,  nothing  contradictory  to  our  reason 
in  black  snow,  or  in  white  soot ; nor  would  it  do  violence  to  our 
faculties  if  we  were  to  witness  both  of  them  to-morrow.  The 
necessity  we  feel  in  the  case  of  an  axiom — such  as,  “ that  two 
right  lines  cannot  inclose  a space,”  is  altogether  of  a different 
nature.  Here  the  word  inconceivable,  attached  to  the  negation  of 
the  axiom,  has  a far  more  intense  meaning  than  it  has  in  the  cases 
which  Mr.  Mill  adduces  ; so  much  so,  that  it  would  do  violence  to 
our  reason  to  suppose  that  negation  to  be  for  one  moment  possible. 
Let  any  one  put  together  the  two  propositions,  “ Snow  is  white,” 
and  “ Two  right  lines  cannot  inclose  a space,”  and  consider, 
whether  their  contradictories  are  in  the  same  degree  of  incon- 
ceivableness. If  they  are  found  to  be  not  so,  then  there  must  be 
some  additional  reason  besides  association,  which  creates  the  idea 
of  necessity  in  the  latter.  The  cause  of  the  difference,  as  it  ap- 

* See  British  (Quarterly  Review,  No.  vii.  p.  29. 

* Vol.  I.  Book  ii.  chap.  5,  sec.  6. 


258 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


pears  to  us,  is  simply  this,  that  the  one  would  contradict  my  ex 
perience,  the  other  would  contradict  my  reason  ; the  former  axiom 
being  an  empirical  induction,  the  latter  being  an  a priori  judg- 
ment. 

We  have  brought  forward  these  few  theories  from  the  work 
above  mentioned,  in  order  that  they  may  serve  as  examples  of  the 
nature  and  spirit  of  Mr.  Mill’s  sensationalism.  Upon  the  whole, 
however,  the  sensational  doctrines  do  not  appear  with  nearly  the 
same  intensity,  which  they  exhibit  in  the  “ Analysis  of  the  Human 
Mind.”  In  one  passage  particularly,  the  author  very  clearly  ex- 
presses his  doubt,  whether  the  attempt  at  explaining  all  our  ab- 
struser  sentiments,  emotions,  volitions,  &c.,  by  the  laws  of  associ- 
ation, has  been  at  all  successful,  and  controverts  the  corresponding 
theory  of  belief,  which  is  maintained  in  the  “ Analysis.”  Although, 
as  we  have  seen,  there  are  some  points  in  the  work  to  which  we 
cannot  agree,  yet  we  cheerfully  allow,  that  it  must  be  placed 
among  the  very  first  efforts  of  philosophical  thinking  in  our  own 
country.  We  believe  that  the  “ System  of  Logic”  is  yet  destined 
as  a book  of  fertile  suggestions  to  bring  forth  beneficial  results, 
which  many  years  to  come  will  in  all  probability  fail  to  exhaust. 

Every  school  of  philosophy,  when  it  has  given  rise  to  works  of 
! a theoretical  and  then  of  a practical  nature,  begins  to  feel  the 
want  of  an  historian,  who  shall  describe  the  progress  of  thought  in 
i the  world  from  its  own  peculiar  stand-point.  The  Analyst  of  the 
' new  sensational  school  of  England  was  Mr.  James  Mill — the  Lo- 
gician is  Mr.  John  S.  Mill — the  Historian  has  now  appeared  in 
I Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes,  writer  of  the  “ Biographical  History  of  Philos- 
ophy,” (Knight,  184G).  The  author  of  this  little  work  has  travelled 
in  a small  compass  over  the  whole  field  of  philosophy,  from  the 
earliest  ages  to  the  present  day,  and  has  investigated  the  most 
prominent  systems,  which  appear  on  the  page  of  history,  with 
some  vigor  and  success. 

In  spite  of  a levity  of  style,  hardly  consistent  with  the  grave 
discussion  of  philosophical  questions,  and  a dogmatism  by  no  means  \ 
attractive,  he  has  thrown  his  elucidations  and  criticisms  before  us, 
with  great  clearness,  and  sometimes  with  considerable  power  of 
argumentation.  At  the  same  time  we  altogether  differ  from  the 
view  he  has  taken  of  the  nature  of  metaphysical  researches,  and 
much  fear  that,  were  it  carried  out  to  its  ultimate  consequences,  it 
would  peril  some  of  the  most  precious  germs  of  human  knowl-  , 
edge. 


hi  L 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


259 


Mr.  Lewes,  it  should  be  understood,  has  carried  his  sensational- 
ism  so  far  as  to  profess  himself  an  unmixed  admirer  of  Comte,  an 
entire  advocate  of  positive  science.  In  philosophy  (by  which  he 
understands  whatever  relates  to  the  origin  of  things  or  causes,-  and 
whatever  relates  to  the  existence  of  things  per  se,  or  their  essences),* 
he  has  no  belief.  He  admits,  indeed,  that  it  has  answered  a good 
end,  inasmuch  as  it  has  led  mankind  to  the  real  or  positive  method 
of  investigating  truth ; but  the  whole  attempt  at  solving  metaphys- 
ical problems  he  sets  down  as  utterly  vain  and  hopeless.  The  his- 
tory of  philosophy,  as  he  views  it,  is  intended  to  show  that  all 
metaphysical  investigations  have  gone  round  and  round  in  one 
perpetual  circle,  that  they  have  ever  thrown  the  same  great  ques- 
tions up  to  view,  and  that  we  are  now  as  far  from  solving  them  as 
when  the  struggle  first  began.  He  proposes,  therefore,  to  write 
the  life  of  this  wondrous  thing — Philosophy ; which  after  having 
enlightened  the  world  up  to  the  nineteenth  century,  is  at  length 
defunct,  or  at  least  expiring. 

Philosophy,  then,  being  renounced  the  true  object  of  human  in- 
vestigation, is  affirmed  to  be  positive  science,  “ the  aim  of  which  is 
to  trace  the  co-existences  and  successions  of  phenomena,  i.  e.  to 
trace  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  throughout  the  universe  sub- 
mitted to  our  inspection.’^  In  other  words,  what  we  have  to  do  is 
to  observe  facts,  and  discover  their  laws ; to  this  empirical  pro- 
cess the  whole  sum  of  our  knowledge  is  forever  confined. 

Against  this  summary  species  of  sensationalism  the  whole  of 
our  previous  reflections,  we  trust,  have  furnished  many  arguments  ; 
but  we  shall  make  now  a few  additional  observations,  more  espe- 
cially applicable  to  the  work  before  us. 

1.  We  cannot  regard  Mr.  Lewes’s  own  account  of  the  true 
office  of  philosophy  as  consistent  with  its  alleged  futility.  He 
admits  that  it  has  been  the  great  impulse  to  human  research, 
the  parent  of  positive  science,  nourishing,  sustaining,  directing  the 
human  faculties  in  their  infancy,  and  leading  them  to  all  that  is 
great  and  noble.  Can  ft,  then,  be  rational  to  affirm  that  philosophy, 
having  been  the  mainspring  of  all  human  improvement,  yet  now, 
exactly  in  this  very  age,  having  given  birth  to  an  Auguste  Comte, 
is  from  henceforth  to  be  thrown  aside  as  utterly  worthless,  and 
chased  out  of  all  our  seats  of  learning?  The  thought  at  once 
suggests  itself.  Has  its  end  been  fully  answered  ? Can  we  call  it 
the  highest  stretch  of  philosophy  to  produce  a system  of  science 

♦ Vol.  i.  p.  16. 


I 


260 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which  formally  denies  the  existence  of  a God  ? May  not  some 
more  struggles  be  yet  necessary,  to  bring  the  human  mind  to  the 
appreciation  of  the  true  method  of  all  mental  investigation  ? Hav- 
ing achieved  the  true  method  of  physical  research,  may  it  not  yet 
be  a higher  triumph  of  philosophy  to  achieve  that  of  metaphysical 
and  spiritual  research  also  ? For  the  honor,  the  glory,  the  hap- 
piness of  humanity,  we  hope  that  it  may  be  so. 

But  on  what  ground  is  it  asserted,  that  metaphysical  science  is 
futile — what  the  theory  on  which  its  long  life  and  approaching 
death  is  explained  ? No  other  than  this : that  human  knowledge 
passes  through  three  stages  ; the  theological,  the  metaphysical,  and 
the  positive  ; and  that  as  each  succeeding  stage  is  gained,  the  ideas 
peculiar  to  the  one  preceding  it  are  exploded.  Now  it  is  admitted 
by  our  author,  that  while  some  sciences  have  reached  the  positive 
stage,  others  are  still  on  the  metaphysical,  and  others  again  on  the 
theological  stand-point.  His  conclusion  is,  that  as  physical  sci- 
ence has  been  freed  from  its  supernatural  and  abstract  form,  all 
; our  knowledge  is  travelling  on  to  the  same  result.  Our  conclusion 
is  quite  the  reverse ; namely,  that  as  the  supernatural,  the  meta- 
physical, and  the  positive,  have  all  existed  more  or  less  in  every 
age,  and  exist  now  as  much  as  ever,  they  are  real  elements  of  truth, 
to  which  the  progress  of  mind  is  gradually  assigning  their  proper 
limits.  Theology  and  philosophy  still  exist,  and  so  they  ever  will 
as  long  as  the  human  faculties  remain  what  they  are  ; never  will 
positive  science  reach  the  height  towards  which  the  spiritual  aspi- 
rations of  man  eternally  tend,  just  in  proportion  as  his  rational  and 
moral  nature  attains  a loftier  degree  of  purity  and  perfection. 

2.  But  we  are  not  yet  prepared  to  grant  that  the  peculiar  prob- 
lems of  philosophy  are  so  utterly  hopeless,  as  our  author  makes 
them  out.  We  do  not  I'egard  his  “ irreversible  canon”  (that  what- 
ever relates  to  causes  and  essences,  is  entirely  beyond  our  reach) 
as  by  any  means  so  certain  as  he  declares  it.  What  is  the  uni- 
verse around  us  ? Is  it  merely  a succession  of  phenomena  ? Does 
it  either  satisfy  our  reason  or  express  our  whole  knowledge  of  the 
world  to  say,  that  all  we  can  do  is  to  observe  and  classify  appear- 
ances 1 Unless  we  choose  to  plunge  into  the  absolute  idealism  of 
Hegel,  and  only  admit  a universe  of  relations,  we  must  suppose  a 
real,  substantial  objective  world  ; and  to  know  that  it  exists,  sup- 
poses a faculty  which,  to  some  extent  or  other,  is  cognizant  of  es- 
sences. So  it  is  also  with  regard  to  causes.  No  empirical  obser- 
vations can  give  us  the  perception  of  power ; but  unless  this  is 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


261 


cognized  as  a reality  by  our  reason,  the  unity  of  the  world  to  us  is 
gone  ; we  can  say  nothing  of  a spiritual  cause,  we  can  never  reach 
the  valid  conception  of  a God.  Nay,  if  all  ontology  is  denied, 
then  our  very  personality  can  never  be  conceived  of ; man  cannot 
call  himself  an  essence,  he  is  but  a succession  of  phenomena.  The  i 
very  same  argument,  in  fact,  by  which  the  positive  philosopher 
sweeps  away  the  science  of  essence  and  cause,  would  likewise 
sweep  away  the  science  of  phenomena  also.  How  do  we  know  ■ 
the  existence  of  substance  and  power  ? By  a certain  subjective 
state  of  our  faculties.  How  do  we  know  aught  of  phenomena  ? 

By  another  state  equally  subjective.  Deny  the  validity  of  con- 
sciousness in  the  one  case,  as  a voucher  for  objective  reality,  and  ‘ 
what  is  to  prevent  my  denying  it  in  the  other  ? 

We  insist,  therefore,  upon  a knowledge  of  the  existence  both  of 
essences  and  causes,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  their  existence  there 
is  a germ  of  thought  which  may  be  expanded  into  a valid  meta- 
physic, or,  if  the  term  be  preferred,  a valid  ontology. 

3.  Our  author  will  now  probably  come  with  the  inquiry,  “ Have 
you,  then,  any  ideas  independent  of  experience  ; for  on  this  the 
pretensions  of  metaphysics  must  be  staked  ?”  I answer.  What  is 
experience  ? What  are  its  elements  ? Unless  we  have  some  ideas 
independent  of  experience,  how  is  experience  possible  ? Experi- 
ence implies  two  elements — a self  on  the  one  side,  an  objective 
reality  on  the  other.  There  must  be  an  intuition  of  my  own  ex- 
istence, there  must  be  a subject  to  which  the  multiplicity  of  my 
ideas  are  referred  as  a primitive  unity,  else  our  consciousness  would 
have  no  thread  of  connection  running  through  it.  Moreover,  there  i 
must  be  certain  forms  by  which  the  objective  stimuli  that  act  upon 
us  are  shaped  into  notions  or  ideas.  Imagine  the  influences  of  the  ^ 
external  world  acting  upon  a perfectly  formed  human  body,  but 
tenanted  by  a mind  without  understanding  or  reason.  These  in-  j 
fluences,  it  is  admitted,  would  never  convey  knowledge  to  such  a 
mind,  because  thei'e  would  exist  no  faculties  adapted  to  grasp  them. 
But  what  does  the  existence  of  such  faculties  imply  ? Evidently  ( 
the  power  of  attaching  certain  forms,  shapes,  or  conceptions  to  ex- 
ternal phenomena — the  power  of  reducing  them  to  notions,  and  of  | 
giving  them  a character  by  which  they  take  their  place  as  real  | 
elements  of  human  knowledge  existing  in  the  understanding.  In  | 
this  sense,  we  assuredly  tZo  possess  something  independent  of  expe-  i 
rience ; we  possess,  namely,  those  categories  or  forms  of  thought  ■ 
which  give  rise  immediately  to  the  primitive  conceptions,  under 


c 

J 


262 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which  all  external  things  are  viewed.  Without  this  a priori  ele- 
ment, experience  itself  would  be  impossible.* 

4.  We  come  to  another  point  which  appears  to  us  to  stand  in  a 
a very  unsatisfactory  light  in  the  work  before  us,  and  that  is  the 
ground-principle  of  religion.  The  author,  on  this  subject,  comes 
forth  with  one  of  his  sweeping  “ fallaciae  plurium  interrogationum,” 
in  the  following  words:  “Upon  what  does  religion  base  itself? 
Upon  reason  or  revelation  ? What  do  the  Fathers  teach  ? What 
do  all  the  highest  theological  authorities  teach  ? The  question  is 
pertinent,  important.  Do  they  teach,  that  human  reason  is  compe- 
petent  to  solve  the  problems  of  religion  ? Do  they  teach,  that  to 
reason  man  must  look  for  certitude  and  conviction  ? No  : they 
one  and  all  energetically  declare,  as  they  are  forced  to  declare,  that 
reason  is  essentially  a finite,  limited,  erring  faculty,  wholly  incom- 
petent to  produce  certitude  and  conviction.”  To  this  he  adds  in 
a note  : “ It  would  be  idle  to  cite  authorities  for  this  fundamental 
and  universally  acknowledged  position.  We  should  be  ashamed 
of  alluding  to  it,  did  not  the  present  discussion  force  us.”!  Now 
we  imagine  it  would  be  more  difficult  to  cite  high  authorities  for 
this  position  than  idle,  if  we  understand  it  aright.  What  does  it 
imply  ? It  cannot  mean  simply  that  reason  is  incompetent  to  de- 
duce all  which  faith  reveals ; for  this  view  of  the  case  would  make 
nothing  for  the  purpose  which  the  author  has  before  him,  that  of 
showing  the  entire  separation  of  religion  and  philosophy.  If  it 
means,  then,  to  assert  that  all  religion  bases  itself  upon  revelation, 
or  that  the  Fathers  taught  any  such  doctrine  as  this,  we  altogether 
deny  it.  Many  of  the  Fathers  built  their  theological  notions,  even 
too  much,  upon  philosophical  dogmas  ; and  the  great  mass  of  theo- 
logical authority,  both  in  ancient  and  modern  times,  teaches  us  to 
base  revealed  religion  upon  the  broader  principles  of  natural  re- 
ligion. All  the  great  systems  of  theology  that  the  Church  has  pro- 
duced, all  at  least  which  have  any  pretensions  to  merit,  proceed 
distinctly  upon  this  principle.  And  correctly  so.  How  the  exist- 
ence of  a God  could  possibly  be  revealed  to  us  by  inspiration  or 
authority,  is  a problem  which  has  never  yet  been  solved.  All  reve- 
lation proceeds  upon  the  fact  of  his  existence,  and  we  know  not 
where  this  fact  could  ever  find  a valid  basis,  were  it  disowned  as  a 
primarv  conclusion  of  our  reason  and  conscience.  This  brings  us, 

* We  must  refer  the  reader  here  to  what  has  already  been  said  upon  this  point  in 
our  examination  of  the  two  foregoing  writers  ; — especially  to  the  difference  between  the 


sensation  of  a thing  and  the  notion  of  it.  ,, 

t Vol.  iv.  p.  43.  y c 

\ ' ' 

■-  ■>  ft 

■1 

4 

u 

SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


263 


then,  to  the  very  point  in  question.  Can  positive  science,  in  the 
sense  here  employed,  ever  bring  us  to  the  conviction  of  the  Being 
of  a God  ? M.  Comte’  says  authoritatively  it  cannot,  and  we  be-  C 
lieve  him  to  be  right.  Far  are  we  from  attributing  this  sentiment  , 
to  those  who  advocate  the  positive  principle,  since  there  is  nothing 
more  unjust  than  to  draw  our  own  conclusions,  and  then  force 
them  upon  other  people ; but  we  cannot  see  how  the  atheistic  con- 
clusion, into  which  the  master  openly  sinks,  can  ultimately  be 
avoided  by  the  pupils.  If  all  we  can  do  is  to  observe  phenomena 
and  deduce  their  laws,  if  all  inquiry  both  into  causes  and  essences 
is  entirely  beyond  our  reach,  we  are  quite  at  a loss  to  see  how  the| 
belief  in  a God  can  be  any  other  than  what  Comte  represents  it,  I ^ 
namely,  a delusion  incident  to  the  more  infantile  state  of  humanity.  | 
We  contend,  then,  for  a philosophy  of  religion.  We  affirm  that 
the  grounds  of  our  religious  belief,  and  the  facts  of  our  spiritual 
nature,  can  be  subjected  to  philosophical  investigation,  as  well  as 
any  other  part  of  our  mental  phenomena.  Vfe  believe  that  the 
history  of  every  mind,  if  it  be  closely  examined,  and  the  history  of 
humanity  in  the  mass,  all  tend  to  prove  some  connection  with  a 
spiritual  world,  without  which  man  were  a problem  utterly  inexpli- 
cable ; and  we  look  with  jealous  eye  upon  any  system  which  tends 
to  absorb  the  notions  of  the  human  spirit  or  the  Infinite  Spirit  in 
that  of  nature,  to  cut  us  off  from  that  which  gives  us  all  our  dig- 
nity, and  lends  to  human  action  all  its  grandeur  and  elevation. 

5.  We  only  add  a single  idea  respecting  the  distinction  which  is 
drawn  in  the  work  before  us,  between  philosophy  apd  positive  sci- 
ence, on  the  ground  of  one  being  progressive,  the  other  not.  The 
author  ought  to  have  admitted  that  philosophy  is  progressive  on 
his  own  hypothesis  ; for  by  his  own  showing  it  has  gradually  evolved 
the  true  principles  of  human  knowledge.  The  fact  which  is  so  i 
much  dwelt  upon,  that  the  same  questions  come  over  and  over 
again,  and  are  ever  unsolved,  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  In  all 
sciences,  even  those  of  a purely  positive  character,  the  great  ulti- 
mate points  aimed  at  are  stated  in  the  outset ; but  the  circumstance 
of  their  not  being  solved  is  no  argument  to  prove  that  progress  is  , 
not  made  in  them.  Physiology  aims  at  the  discovery  of  the  princi- 
ple of  life ; chemistry  of  the  ultimate  elements  of  nature ; politics 
at  the  best  possible  form  of  government.  These  problems  recur 
ever  and  anon ; they  are  ever  solving  and  never  solved ; but  truth  , 
comes  out  in  the  very  process.  So  it  is  in  philosophy.  The  great 
ultimate  problems  have  been  stated,  and  re-stated,  and  never  solved ; | 


264 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


but  let  the  progress  of  human  intelligence,  the  marking  out  of  the 
boundaries  of  human  knowledge,  the  whole  intellectual  phenomena 
of  man’s  history,  say,  whether  there  has  not  been  a steady  advance- 
ment towards  the  elucidation  of  the  great  questions  of  man’s  nature 
and  destiny.  Indeed,  the  argument  from  the  fixed  nature  of  meta- 
physical ideas,  may  be  viewed  as  tending  exactly  the  contrary 
way  from  what  is  here  intended.  What  does  the  perpetual  ad- 
vance of  positive  science  prove,  but  its  errors  or  imperfections  ? 
What  does  the  fixedness  of  metaphysical  ideas  prove,  but  their  ab- 
solute and  necessary  truth  ? For  our  own  part,  we  believe  fully 
and  heartily  in  philosophy  ; we  regard  it  as  the  truest  expression 
of  the  thought  of  every  age ; as  one  of  the  greatest  aids  to  human 
progress ; and,  when  of  a true,  elevated,  and  spiritual  kind,  as  one 
of  the  most  efficient  means  by  which  man  is  ever  recalled  from  his 
absorption  in  the  material,  to  the  contemplation  of  truth,  of  im- 
mortality, and  of  God. 

We  might  just  mention,  before  concluding  this  part  of  the  sec- 
tion, that  there  have  been  many  pleasing,  though  by  no  means 
profound  writers,  who  have  from  time  to  time  grounded  upon  these 
sensational  principles,  valuable  works  of  a practical  kind,  adapted 
more  especially  to  guide  us  aright  in  estimating  the  influence  of 
circumstances  over  the  human  mind.  " As  a specimen  of  these,  I 
might  mention  Dr.  Henry  M‘Cormac’s  volume  entitled  “ The  Phi- 
losophy of  Human  Nature  in  its  Physical,  Intellectual,  and  Moral 
relations.”  We  find  here  the  same  theory  of  causation  assumed, 
that  we  have  qlready  noticed ; the  same  dogma  respecting  the  ori- 
gin of  our  ideas,  the  same  fundamental  principle  respecting  the 
nature  of  the  moral  faculty  as  arising  from  experience  and  associa- 
tion, all  asserted,  and  reasoned  upon,  with  only  the  very  feeblest 
attempt  at  analyzing  and  proving  them.  Notwithstanding  this, 
however,  the  work  is  practically  a useful  one  for  general  readers, 
and  points  out  many  facts  in  the  constitution  of  man,  which  it  is 
highly  beneficial  for  us  both  to  observe  and  act  upon. 

As  a whole,  then,  we  might  say  that  this  school  of  philosophy 
has  borne  much  good  fruit  in  its  own  peculiar  department ; for  al- 
though it  is  by  no  means  adapted  to  cultivate  the  deeper  religious 
feelings,  or  to  raise  the  mind  to  enthusiasm  in  the  pursuit  either  of 
the  beautiful  or  the  good,  yet  it  is  well  calculated  to  point  out  the 
mental  action  and  reaction  of  mind  and  matter,  of  the  man,  and  the 
outward  world,  upon  each  other,  and  thus  to  advance  that  species 
of  education  which  consists  in  so  adapting  our  circumstances,  as 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


265 


to  aid  us  in  our  intellectual  advancement,  and  in  the  performance 
of  our  moral  duties.  All  the  varied  systems  we  shall  bring  undei 
review,  are,  in  fact,  but  pulsations  of  the  great  mind  of  humanity. 
They  are  all  based  upon  some  true  idea,  and  each  takes  up  some 
one  department,  which,  owing  to  the  concentration  of  mind  upon 
it  thus  produced,  is  analyzed  far  more  completely  than  could  other- 
wise have  been  the  case.  The  defect  which  one  system  labors 
under  is  soon  supplied  by  the  exertions  of  another,  and  the  next  j 
age  reaps  the  fruit,  which  they  have  both  conspired  to  produce  and  i 
to  mature.  We  come  now  to  consider  the  class  of  philosophers 
which  we  have  termed 

(B)  Sensational  Moralists. 

Although  ethics  do  not,  generally  speaking,  afford  so  much  scope 
for  speculative  philosophy  as  those  branches  of  mental  analysis,  to 
which  we  have  just  referred,  yet  it  would  occasion  a considerable 
blank  in  our  historical  survey,  were  we  to  pass  by  the  attempts 
which  have  been  made  to  philosophize  on  man’s  moral  and  practi- 
cal life.  That  moral  systems  should  be  founded  upon  sensational 
principles  is,  perhaps,  less  to  be  wondered  at,  than  that  such  prin- 
ciples should  be  employed  in  explaining  the  more  complex  phenom- 
ena of  our  intellectual  being.  Our  actions  are  external,  and  refer 
for  the  most  part  to  some  or  other  of  our  outward  circumstances ; 
hence,  probably,  arises  the  great  tendency  there  is,  to  make  the 
whole  science  of  ethics  turn  upon  outward  laws  or  relationships, 
rather  than  upon  any  of  our  inward  feelings  or  conceptions,  to 
make  it  a system  of  rules,  rather  than  the  acting  out  of  an  abso- 
lute idea.  On  this  account,  we  consider  it  a matter  of  great  im- 
portance, to  show  how  our  moral  sentiments  spring  from  that  true 
and  incontrovertible  source,  which  exists  in  the  primary  elements 
of  our  constitution. 

In  studying  moral  philosophy  speculatively,  there  are  two  differ- 
ent methods  in  which  we  may  commence  and  carry  on  our  inves- 
tigations. First,  we  may  begin  by  the  study  of  actions,  analyzing 
their  qualities,  and  attempting  to  discover  what  it  is  which  gives 
them  the  peculiarity,  that  we  designate  by  the  word  moral;  or, 
secondly,  we  may  begin  by  studying  our  inward  emotions,  and  en- 
deavor from  thence  to  detect  the  precise  nature  and  ground  of  the 
moral  feelings.  In  the  one  case  we  seek  to  answer  the  question. 
What  is  virtue  ? in  the  other.  What  is  conscience  ? The  former 


266 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  these  processes  we  may  term  the  objective,  the  latter  the  sub- 
jective method  ; and  we  shall  have  ere  long  to  point  out  two  dis- 
tinct schools  of  sensational  moralists,  which  have  followed  respec- 
tively each  of  these  two  methods  in  their  philosophical  speculations. 

The  inlluence  of  sensational  principles  upon  both  methods  is  at 
once  obvious.  First,  consider  their  bearing  upon  the  discussion, 
which  has  taken  place,  respecting  the  qualities  of  actions.  One 
philosopher  affirms,  that  by  the  exercise  of  his  higher  or  rational 
faculty,  he  perceives  in  action  certain  moral  distinctions,  which  are 
quite  separate  from  any  immediate  tendency  they  may  have  to 
produce  pleasure  or  pain ; while  another  contends  that  we  possess 
a moral  sense,  which  distinguishes  ethical  properties  in  actions,  just 
as  the  natural  senses  distinguish  material  properties  in  objects.  To 
the  sensationalist,  however,  both  these  theories  are  totally  inad- 
missible. As  to  our  reason,  he  would  argue,  it  can  do  nothing 
more  than  work  up  the  matter  which  experience  affords,  and  there- 
fore, can  discover  no  qualities  distinct  from  those  which  come  to 
us  through  the  channels  of  sensation ; and  as  to  the  moral  sense,  it 
cannot  be  generically  different  I'rom  natural  sense  or  sensation,  but, 
like  all  other  emotions,  is  merely  a particular  form  in  which  the 
latter  is  found  to  exist.  Actions,  therefore,  morally  speaking,  can 
have  only  one  set  of  qualities  when  viewed  by  the  light  of  sensa- 
tionalism, namely,  those,  by  virtue  of  which  we  receive  profit  or 
loss,  pleasure  or  pain,  joy  or  sorrow. 

Again,  if  we  look  to  the  subjective  side  of  the  question,  it  is 
equally  evident,  that,  in  studying  the  moral  facility,  sensationalism 
at  once  puts  its  veto  upon  any  theory,  that  implies  the  spontaneous 
action  of  the  human  mind  ; that  it  makes  every  impulse  come  from 
without ; and  that  when  carried  to  its  legitimate  conclusion,  it 
merges  human  liberty  entirely  in  an  iron  fate,  consequent  upon  the 
supremacy  of  external  circumstances.  We  shall  now,  therefore, 
briefly  trace  the  influence  of  sensational  principles  upon  these  two 
phases  of  ethical  philosophy,  as  exhibited  in  our  own  country  during 
the  present  century. 

I.  We  begin  with  the  objective  sensational  ethics  of  the  present 
age,  the  great  inquiry  of  which  is,  into  the  nature  and  grounds  of 
virtue  externally  considered.  Locke,  it  is  well  known,  in  his  zeal 
to  oppose  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  denied  the  existence  of  any 
original  or  innate  practical  principles,  by  which  human  action  is 
governed  ; a conclusion  against  which  Lord  Shaftesbury  and  others 
very  warmly  protested.  Nowithstanding  this  protest.  Dr.  Thomas 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


267 


Rutherford,  following  out  the  moral  aspect  of  Locke’s  philosophy, 
soon  worked  it  up  into  a defence  of  utilitarianism.  With  this  view 
of  the  ground  of  moral  relations  David  Hume  coincided,  and  also, 
among  English  writers,  Abraham  Tucker,  an  especial  admirer  and 
follower  of  Locke.  To  these  writers  succeeded  Archdeacon  Paley^ 
who  published  his  work  on  Moral  Philosophy*  in  the  year  1785 — 
a work  which  from  that  period  to  the  present  has  held  the  most 
distinguished  place  in  one  of  the  English  universities  at  least,  and 
has  been  extensively  read  and  admired  throughout  the  country. 
The  utilitarian  scheme  of  Paley,  then,  we  may  consider  as  the 
ethical  phase  of  Locke’s  philosophy,  which  has  principally  occupied 
the  public  attention  during  the  nineteenth  century. 

Paley’s  definition  of  virtue  is  well  known  to  every  moralist.  He 
makes  it  “ the  doing  good  to  mankind  in  obedience  to  the  will  of 
God  for  the  sake  of  eternal  happiness.”f  The  will  of  God  then  is 
here  stated  as  the  most  direct  rule  of  morality  which  we  possess. 
To  find  the  ground  of  it  we  have  only  to  ask  what  is  the  ground 
of  that  will  ? The  ground  of  it,  argues  Paley,  can  be  no  other 
than  the  production  of  happiness  to  the  creature,  since  we  cannot 
conceive  of  God  operating  otherwise  than  benevolently. J We 
may  consider,  therefore,  the  utility  of  an  action  to  be  the  ultimate 
foundation  of  its  moral  excellence,  and  the  test  by  which  we  know 
it  to  be  in  consonance  with  the  Divine  purpose. § This  mode  of 
stating  the  matter,  as  it  appears  to  us,  virtually  begs  the  whole 
question.  The  possible  motives  of  the  Divine  operation  are  all 
summed  up  in  a single  disjunctive  syllogism — God  must  act  malig- 
nantly, benevolently,  or  indifferently ; but  he  cannot  act  malignantly 
or  indifferently,  therefore  he  must  act  benevolently.  Undoubtedly, 
God  ever  acts  benevolently ; but  does  this  syllogism  exhaust  the 
possible  motives  of  the  Divine  operation  ? Far  from  it.  There 
is  yet  room  for  us  to  imagine  an  infinite  number  of  grounds  in  the 
depths  of  the  Divine  nature,  from  which  the  operations  of  Deity 
may  originate.  Why  might  we  not  as  well  argue,  that  God  must 
operate  according  to  right,  or  according  to  wrong,  or  indifferently 
to  both — but  he  cannot  act  wrongly  or  indifferently ; consequently 
he  must  according  to  right,  and  that  must  be  to  us  the  ground  of 
virtue.  These  kind  of  arguments,  in  fact,  bring  us  no  nearer  to  the 

* “ Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy.”  Dedicated  to  Edmund  Law,  D.  D., 
Bishop  of  Carlisle. 

■f  Book  1.  chap,  vii  paragraph  the  first. 

t Book  II.  chap.  v. 


§ Ibid.  chap.  vi. 


268 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


real  analysis  of  the  subject  in  hand ; they  beg  the  question  in  the 
very  terms  employed. 

Without  making  any  further  specific  remarks,  however,  upon 
Paley,  we  shall  proceed  to  offer  a few  observations  upon  utilita- 
rianism itself,  as  an  ethical  system. 

1.  We  affirm  that  utility  could  never  be  practically  applied,  as  a 
safe  and  sufficient  rule  of  human  action.  For  on  the  supposition  that 
our  actions  are  to  be  estimated  and  directed  by  their  expediency, 
who,  we  ask,  is  to  estimate  or  direct  them  ? The  consequences  of 
every  action  we  perform,  are  either  wholly  or  to  a great  extent  un- 
known to  us ; they  go  on  multiplying  by  the  laws  of  our  moral  and 
intellectual  nature  far  beyond  the  possibility  of  human  sagacity  to 
calculate  ; so  that  if  we  had  to  value  each  action  according  to  this 
rule,  it  would  be  impossible  ever  to  know,  with  any  approach  to 
certainty,  how  much  virtue  or  how  much  vice  it  really  contained, 
how  far  it  was  morally  right  or  how  far  morally  wrong.  Paley, 
though  a utilitarian,  saw  clearly  that  utility  would  not  serve  as  a 
rule  of  conduct,  and  took  refuge  from  its  uncertainty  in  the  will 
of  God.  However  acutely,  therefore,  it  might  be  argued  that  util- 
ity is  the  ground  of  morality,  and  imparts  to  all  actions  the  peculiar 
qualities  which  we  attach  to  them  as  good  or  evil,  still  it  is  quite 
clear  that  we  need  some  safer  principle  by  which  our  practical  life 
may  be  directed.  Unless  such  a principle  be  afforded  us,  we  may 
commit  the  greatest  errors  in  morality,  while  our  intentions  may 
have  been  perfectly  sound  and  healthy. 

To  this  argument  it  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to  answer,  that 
utility  is  not  be  estimated  by  the  sagacity  of  any  individual  mind, 
but  rather  by  the  combined  and  general  result  of  human  experience, 
from  which  the  rule  of  life  will  be  an  induction  ; for  this  general 
experience  is  not  applicable  to  the  vast  majority  of  individual  ac- 
tions at  all,  and  if  it  were  so,  is  still  far  too  fluctuating  to  serve  for 
an  absolute  and  imperative  law.  If  men  were  to  act  on  their  own 
ideas  of  utility,  we  should  have  an  infinity  of  moral  laws,  varying 
with  their  relative  sagacity  or  folly  ; if  they  were  to  act  on  the 
general  idea  of  utility,  then  we  should  find  moral  distinctions  va- 
rying in  every  country,  and  with  every  different  state  of  society. 
Utility,  then,  cannot  be  the  universal  rule  of  moral  action  ; we  go 
on  further  to  show  that  it  can  neither  be  the  ground  of  it.  To 
show  this,  we  affirm, 

2.  That  the  argument  drawn  from  the  fact,  that  utility  in  the  case 
of  inanimate  or  involuntary  agents  never  produces  in  us  the  slight- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


269 


est  degree  of  moral  approbation  has  never,  as  far  as  we  are  aware, 
been  fully  and  satisfactorily  answered.  If  utility  were  the  whole 
foundation  of  moral  distinctions,  assuredly  we  ought  to  denominate 
everything  virtuous  which  is  in  any  way  beneficial.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  very  fact  that  the  notion  of  intelligence  and  will  are  to 
be  subjoined  before  we  can  possibly  regard  utility  as  synonymous 
with  morality,  is  a proof  that  something  else  is  needed,  ere  we 
can  account  for  the  whole  of  what  is  contained  in  the  notion  of 
virtue.  The  argumentation  may  be  briefly  put  as  follows.  If  an 
agent  is  accounted  virtuous  simply  because  he  subserves  the  gen- 
eral well-being,  then  a valuable  machine,  which  confers  great 
blessings  upon  society,  is  virtuous.  By  no  means,  replies  the  util- 
itarian ; a machine  is  not  an  intelligent  or  a voluntary  being  at  all, 
and  hence  stands  altogether  without  the  limits  of  moral  agency. 
On  your  own  showing,  then,  we  rejoin,  there  must  be  something 
or  other  in  an  action  besides  its  mere  utility,  something  implied  in 
the  idea  of  free  agency  and  intelligence  which  gives  it  its  moral 
character ; and  it  is  that  something  which  we  contend  for  as  an 
element  that  altogether  destroys  the  system  of  mere  expediency, 
which  we  are  now  considering. 

3.  This  will  be  more  clearly  seen,  when  we  consider  that  moral 
distinctions,  if  we  trace  them  to  their  origin,  do  not  apply  directly 
to  actions  at  all,  but  only  to  their  motives.  Our  moral  estimate 
of  every  action,  purposed  by  a sound  mind,  is  regulated  entirely  by 
the  view  we  take  of  the  intention  from  which  it  springs.  Many 
an  act  which  is  really  useful  is  stamped  by  us  as  immoral,  the  very 
moment  we  perceive  that  the  design  of  it  was  evil ; and  many  an 
act  fraught  with  mischief  and  calamity  is  not  only  passed  by  un- 
censured, but  is  even  applauded  as  virtuous,  so  soon  as  we  distinctly 
perceive  that  it  was  done  with  a good  intention.  On  the  very 
same  principle,  one  and  the  same  action  is  often  regarded  as  moral 
to-day  and  immoral  to-morrow  ; not  because  we  have  discovered 
in  the  meantime  any  difference  in  its  tendency,  but  because  we 
have  fresh  light  thrown  upon  the  motive  from  which  it  sprang. 

Observe,  then,  how  the  moral  aspect  of  an  action  must  be  judged 
of,  on  the  principle,  that  its  excellence  or  turpitude  arises  out  of 
the  motive  it  springs  from.  If  we  define  a motive  to  be  that,  which 
immediately  precedes  and  leads  to  effort,  it  is  evident,  that  it  can- 
not be  anything  external,  but  must  consist  in  a particular  state  of 
feeling  or  emotion,  since  it  is  from  this  alone  that  action  or  effort 
can  directly  flow.  A moral  motive,  accordingly,  in  opposition  to 


270 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


an  instinctive  one,  will  be  a state  of  feeling,  which  includes  in  it 
intelligence  and  design,  since  we  always  carefully  exclude  from 
the  appellation  of  virtuous,  those  acts  which  result  from  our  purely 
instinctive  or  pathological  affections.  To  estimate,  then,  the  true 
morality  of  an  action,  instead  of  first  looking  to  its  direct  tendency, 
respecting  which  we  may  be  altogether  deceived,  we  must  follow 
it  up  to  the  motive  from  which  it  originated ; this  motive  we  must 
ascertain  to  be  a state  of  feeling  not  pathological  merely,  but  in- 
volving intelligence  and  design  ; and,  lastly,  we  must  perceive  that 
the  design  itself  is  in  accordance  with  our  nature  and  destiny  as 
accountable  creatures.  If  this  be  an  accurate  analysis,  the  foun- 
dation-stone of  morals  is  the  great  ruling  law  of  our  nature,  by 
virtue  of  wliich  we  are  impelled  to  the  accomplishment  of  our  des- 
tiny ; which  law,  moreover,  is  but  an  expression  both  of  the  will 
and  the  nature  of  God.  Upon  everything  which  God  has  created 
around  us,  a law  is  visibly  impressed,  by  which  it  has  to  fulfil  its 
design  ; our  law  is  that  engraven  upon  the  conscience,  and  em- 
bodied in  the  dictates  of  our  moral  nature.  Here  we  have  at  once  a 
sure  ground  of  morality,  and  a valid  rule  by  which  to  direct  all  our 
practical  life.  Such  an  account  of  our  actions,  morally  considered, 
it  is  needless  to  say,  is  quite  incompatible  with  the  doctrine  of 
utility ; not  but  that  the  great  moral  law  may  ultimately  coincide 
with  what  is  expedient,  but  still,  as  far  as  man  is  concerned,  the 
law  itself,  as  an  expression  of  the  Divine  will  and  the  Divine  na- 
ture, must  be  regarded  as  the  foundation  of  virtue  ; expediency 
can  only  be  used  at  the  very  furthest  as  the  test  of  it. 

4.  The  most  decisive  ground  of  appeal,  however,  on  all  ques- 
tions of  this  nature,  is  that  of  the  human  consciousness.  Funda- 
mental truths  of  our  spiritual  being  cannot  be  proved ; they  must 
ultimately  rest  upon  the  natural  history  of  the  human  mind,  ob- 
served and  investigated  on  the  principle  of  all  inductive  philos- 
ophy. Is  there,  then,  or  is  there  not,  in  the  human  mind,  an  intu- 
itive perception  of  duty  or  propriety,  distinct  from  any  calculations 
of  profit  and  loss  ? Is  there,  or  is  there  not,  a feeling  of  approba- 
tion in  the  consciousness  of  having  complied  with  duty,  quite 
in'espective  of  the  benefit  which  may  accrue  to  ourselves  or  to 
any  one  else  ; and  is  there,  or  is  there  not,  a feeling  of  self-con- 
demnation or  remorse  when  duty  has  been  set  at  nought,  although 
no  injury  may  have  been  inflcted  ? We  answer,  there  is  no  lan- 
guage of  civilized  men,  in  which  the  most  unequivocal  terms  ex- 
pressive of  such  facts  of  our  moral  nature  are  not  found  in  abun- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


27 


dance,  and  none  in  which  they  do  not  stand  quite  distinct  from  the 
phraseology,  by  which  men  express  their  notions  of  the  injurious 
and  the  useful.  To  describe,  in  poetic  language,  the  beauty  of 
individual  actions,  which  have  all  the  marks  of  disinterested  virtue 
about  them,  does  not  suit  the  closer  and  more  severely  philosoph- 
ical style  which  it  is  our  aim  here  to  preserve  ; the  whole  argu- 
ment, however,  is  contained  in  this  one  sentiment — that  if  we  in- 
vestigate the  facts  of  our  own  consciousness,  or  examine  the  words 
and  actions  of  mankind  at  large,  as  evidences  of  their  inward  per- 
ceptions and  feelings,  we  shall  discover  a class  of  moral  emotions, 
which  are  excited  by  the  contemplation  simply  of  right  motives, 
and  that  too  before  the  slightest  judgment  is  passed  upon  the  ulj.lity 
of  the  action,  to  which  such  motives  gave  birth. 

Against  this  conclusion  it  is  but  idle  speculation  to  inquire, 
whether  a savage  brought  up  in  the  woods  and  forests  would  man- 
ifest certain  moral  sensibilities  at  the  sight  of  a detestable  action.* 
It  is  no  more  possible  to  argue  correctly  respecting  our  moral 
faculties  from  such  a case,  than  it  is  to  argue  correctly  respecting 
man’s  intellectual  pow'ers  from  the  most  degraded  of  our  species, 
or  to  conclude,  that  because  the  human  frame  does  not  manifest 
certain  physical  powers,  when  sickly  and  decrepit,  that  therefore  it 
cannot  possess  them  in  ordinary  circumstances  favorable  to  its  full 
development.  Paley,  it  is  true,  though  employing  fallacious  argu- 
ments of  this  kind,  yet  gave  a higher  tone  to  his  moral  system, 
than  Hume  had  done  before  him,  by  presenting  the  nobler  motives 
to  virtue,  which  we  derive  from  the  hope  of  everlasting  happiness ; 
but  still  all  the  objections  we  have  pointed  out,  we  cannot  but 
think,  are  opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  utility  as  a principle,  whethei 
we  take  it  in  its  wider  or  more  contracted  extent. 

From  the  foregoing  remarks,  then,  we  conclude  that  utility  can 
never  give  an  unerring  rule  for  the  guidance  of  human  actions ; 
that  it  passes  by  all  consideration  of  right  or  wrong  motives  in  the 
estimate  of  human  conduct ; that  it  takes  no  account  whatever  of 
our  moral  dispositions ; that  it  fails  to  explain  the  facts  of  our 
consciousness  ; and  is  consequently  wholly  insufficient  as  a theory 
to  satisfy  the  phenomena  of  our  moral  fife. 

But  we  come  now  to  notice  another  form,  which  the  utilitarian 
principle  has  taken,  and  in  which  it  has  excited  no  little  attention 
in  our  own  country,  as  well  as  on  the  Continent  of  Europe, — I 

* This  is  the  method  proposed  by  Paley,  for  testing  the  reality  of  a moral  sense.  See 
“Moral  and  Political  Philosophy,”  Book  I.  chap.  v. 


272 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


refer  to  the  philosophy  of  Bentham.  Jeremy  Bentham  was  born 
in  London,  in  the  year  1748,  and  at  a very  early  age  became  a 
graduate  of  the  university  of  Oxford.  Whilst  there  he  directed 
his  attention  to  the  study  of  law  and  the  cognate  branch  of  ethics, 
and  during  the  last  year  of  his  stay  in  that  city  became  an  ardent 
admirer  and  investigator  of  the  principle  of  utility,  chiefly  from 
reading  the  Essay  of  Dr.  Priestley  upon  Government.  In  1776  he 
published  a “Fragment  on  Government,”  and  in  1789  appeared  his 
grand  work,  entitled,  “ Introduction  to  the  Principles  of  Morals  and 
Legislation.”  The  moral  system  which  Bentham  advocated  in  this 
'atter  work,  and  which  he  expanded  more  and  more  during  a long  and 
labcjrious  life,  at  length  came  forth  in  the  year  1834,  in  its  most  com- 
plete, and  at  the  same  time  most  popular  form,  as  a posthumous 
production,  edited  by  Dr.  Bowring,  under  the  name  of  “ Deontology.”’ 
The  account  of  Bentham’s  proceedings  in  the  development  of 
his  principles  is  given  by  his  editor  in  the  following  terms  : — “ It 
was  in  the  year  1789  that  the  ‘ Introduction  to  the  Principles  of 
Morals  and  Legislation’  appeared.  Here,  for  the  first  time,  are 
pains  and  pleasures  separately  defined,  and  regularly  grouped  ; and 
the  classification  and  definition  of  them  is  so  complete  for  all  ordi- 
nary purposes  of  moral  and  legislative  investigation,  that  Mr. 
Bentham,  in  after  life,  found  little  to  modify  or  to  add  to  in  the 
list.  By  the  side  of  the  pains  and  the  pleasures,  the  corresponding 
motives  are  brought  to  view,  and  a clear  and  determinate  idea 
attached  to  the  springs  of  action  by  showing  their  separate  opera- 
tion. And,  moreover,  the  author  uncovers  and  sifts  that  phraseol- 
ogy which  has  done  so  much  mischief  in  the  field  of  right  and 
wrong  by  the  judgment  of  motives,  instead  of  the  judgment  of 
conduct,  so  that  the  same  motive  is  frequently  spoken  of  in  terms 
opposed  to  and  incompatible  with  one  another.  * * * In  the 

later  years,  however,  of  Mr.  Bentham’s  life,  he  was  far  from 
deeming  his  analysis  complete.  He  had  not  taken  man’s  interests 
and  man’s  desires  into  his  list,  and  he  employed  the  phraseology 
of  utility  instead  of  that  of  happiness.”* 

In  the  year  1810,  it  appears,  Bentham  published  his  “Chresto- 
mathia,”  the  object  of  which  was  to  show  in  what  manner  all  the 
various  arts  and  sciences  contribute  to  the  production  of  human 
happiness.  In  1817  appeared  “ The  Table  of  the  Springs  of  Ac- 
tion,” in  which  the  phraseology  of  utilitarianism  is  still  retained, 
although  the  author  was  evidently  working  his  moral  system  into 
♦ “ Deontology,”  Vol,  I.  p.  311. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


273 


a more  close  and  definite  form.  Becoming  now,  however,  dissat- 
isfied with  the  term  utility,  as  expressive  of  the  groundwork  of  mo- 
rality, he  cast  about  for  an  expression  which  should  convey  his 
notion  on  the  subject  without  the  possibility  of  creating  error  or 
equivocation.  Once  he  thought  of  proposing  the  term  eudaimo- 
nology,  again  he  employed  the  word  felicitism,  until  at  length,  in 
the  year  1822,  in  his  “ Codification  Proposal,”  he  decided  on  term- 
ing his  moral  theory  “the  greatest-happiness  principle,”  and  to 
represent  the  practice  of  virtue  as  the  art  of  maximizing  happi- 
ness. It  is  the  complete  exposition  of  this  principle  in  its  last  and 
most  improved  phraseology,  that  forms  the  object  of  the  work 
called  “ Deontology,”  to  which  we  have  just  alluded.* 

The  principles  advocated  under  the  name  of  Deontology  may 
be  easily  explained.  The  whole  system  takes  its  rise  from  the 
consideration,  that  man  is  capable  of  pleasures  and  pains,  and  that, 
from  the  calculation  of  these,  all  moral  action  proceeds.  On  this 
theory,  good  is  a word  synonymous  with  pleasure,  evil  synony- 
mous with  pain,  and  all  happiness  consists  in  the  possession  of  the 
one,  and  the  absence  of  the  other.  Give  me,  says  the  utilitarian 
teacher,  give  me  the  human  sensibilities — joy  and  grief,  pain  and 
pleasure,  and  I will  create  a moral  world. t Pleasure  and  pain, 
then,  the  basis  of  our  moral  nature,  are  to  be  estimated  according 
to  their  magnitude  and  extent ; magnitude,  referring  to  their  in- 
tensity and  duration ; extent,  depending  on  the  number  of  persons 
who  are  affected  by  them.  It  is  in  the  proper  balancing  of  these, 
asserts  Bentham,  that  all  morality  consists,  and  beyond  this  the 
words  virtue  and  vice  are  emptiness  and  folly.J 

Pleasure  or  pain,  however,  may  arise  from  two  sources ; it  may 
arise  from  considerations  affecting  ourselves,  or  it  may  arise  from 
the  contemplation  of  others,  the  former  being  purely  of  a selfish 
nature,  the  latter  being  sympathetic. § Hence  originates  a two- 
fold division  of  virtue  into  prudence  and  effective  benevolence — 
both  of  them,  however,  alike  having  their  ground  in  the  pleasure 
we  personally  derive  from  their  exercise.  Prudence,  again,  is  of 
two  kinds,  that  which  respects  ourselves,  which  our  author  terms 
self-regarding  prudence  ; and  that  which  respects  others,  which  he 
terms  extra-regarding  prudence.  Effective  benevolence,  also,  is 

* See  Dr.  Bowring’s  History  of  the  greatest-happiness  principle,  appended  to  the  first 
volume  of  the  “ Deontology.” 

t Deontology,  chap.  i.  and  ii.,  in  which  the  basis  of  the  principle  is  explained,  in  a 
most  amusing  and  caustic  style. 

+ For  an  equally  amusing  history  of  the  word  “ Virtue,”  consult  chap.  x. 

§ Vol.  ii.  Introduction. 


18 


274 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


twofold,  positive  and  negative ; the  business  of  the  former  being 
to  augment  pleasure  by  voluntary  exertion,  that  of  the  latter  being 
to  do  the  same  by  abstaining  ^xom.  action.*  Virtue,  says  Bentham, 
when  separated  from  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  is  absolutely  noth- 
ing ; and,  accordingly,  it  is  termed  by  him  a fictitious  entity.f 
Inasmuch,  also,  as  no  one  is  supposed  to  have  any  motive  for  ac- 
tion different  from  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  or  the  avoidance  of  pain, 
we  have  the  deontological  doctrine  educed,  that  every  motive  is 
abstractedly  good,  and  that  evil  has  to  do  with  nothing  but  our 
actions  or  dispositions.  In  a word,  we  are  to  imagine,  that  man 
has  originally  no  moral  sentiment  whatever,  that  he  has  no  idea 
of  one  thing  being  right  and  another  wrong,  that  all  actions  are  to 
him  in  this  respect  absolutely  alike,  and  that  the  conception  of  vir- 
tue, as  well  as  the  rules  of  morality,  are  all  the  product  of  experi- 
ence, teaching  us  what  actions  produce  happiness,  and  what  suf- 
fering. Such  is  the  moral  system,  which  is  aptly  enough  termed 
the  greatest-happiness  principle,  and  such  the  virtue  which  is  cor- 
rectly expressed  as  the  art  of  maximizing  our  enjoyment. 

The  style  of  the  work  from  which  I have  made  the  above 
analysis  is  popular,  witty,  and  somewhat  amusing,  but  becomes  at 
length  tedious  from  repetition  and  tautology.  It  abounds  in  biting 
sarcasm  against  what  is  termed  the  dogmatism  and  “ ipse-dixitism!’’ 
of  most  other  moralists ; but,  what  is  remarkable,  is  itself  at  the 
same  time  one  of  the  most  striking  instances  of  reiterated  assertion 
that  is  to  be  found  among  all  the  ethical  writings  of  the  present 
century. J 

Now,  in  offering  some  remarks  upon  Bentham’s  philosophy,  we 
must  state  distinctly,  that  we  leave  entirely  out  of  the  question  his 
valuable  labors  in  the  department  of  jurisprudence,  and  refer  sim- 
ply to  the  principles  of  his  moral  theory.  And  here  we  would 
caution  every  ethical  student  against  imagining,  that  he  will  find 
all  the  originality,  which  is  claimed  for  the  deontologist  by  himself 
and  his  more  ardent  admirers.  To  speak  of  Bentham’s  “having 
found  out  the  true  psychological  law  of  our  nature,  as  New'ton  dis- 
covered that  of  the  material  universe,”  is  not  only  metaphysically 
false,  but,  even  allowing  its  philosophical  accuracy,  is  historically 
untrue.  To  say  nothing  of  the  Epicureans  of  ancient  times,  and 
more  recently  of  Hobbes,  we  might  point  out  many  writers,  who 
have  given  far  more  than  passing  allusions  to  the  very  same  doc- 

* These  results  comprise  the  whole  scope  of  the  second  volume  of  the  “ Deontology.” 

f Vol.  i.  chap.  X. 

t Bentham’s  most  scientific  work  was  his  “ Introduction  to  Morals  and  Legislation.” 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


275 


trine  as  that  for  which  Bentham  is  so  highly  extolled,  although 
they  may  not  have  expanded  it  so  fully,  or  applied  it  so  exten- 
sively, as  was  done  in  the  case  before  us.*  The  professed  sup- 
porters of  utility,  again,  such  as  Hume  and  Paley,  proceeded 
virtually  upon  the  very  same  principle ; and  even  if  we  pass  over 
these,  yet  still  we  might  refer  to  Gay’s  preface  to  Archbishop 
King  “ On  the  Origin  of  Evil,”  to  the  writings  of  Priestley,  to  the 
“ Political  Justice”  of  Godwin,  and  to  many  of  the  French  moral- 
ists, for  illustrations  of  the  very  same  theory,  which  Bentham  only 
somewhat  more  perseveringly  elaborated.  The  greatest-happiness 
principle  is,  in  fact,  utilitarianism  in  one  of  its  many  different 
phases;  and  accordingly  the  objections,  which  we  have  already 
urged  against  that  doctrine,  apply  with  equal  force  to  the  one  now 
before  us.  As  the  question,  however,  is  of  some  importance,  we 
shall  specify  a few  other  objections,  which  apply  more  directly  to 
the  utilitarian  system,  as  held  by  the  advocates  of  deontology ; and, 
1.  There  is  in  these  writers  a perpetual  habit  of  confounding  the 
cause  of  virtuous  action  with  the  effect.  We  have  it  reiterated 
again  and  again  as  an  unanswerable  argument,  that  there  must  be 
a selfish  pleasure  experienced  whenever  we  act  on  virtuous  princi- 
ples : for,  if  our  action  terminates  in  ourselves,  it  must  arise  from 
the  prospect  of  our  own  happiness  and  advantage ; if,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  act  for  the  welfare  of  others,  still,  we  are  told,  it  is  only 
for  the  satisfaction  of  our  own  impulses  that  we  seek  to  benefit 
them.  Now,  that  there  is  pleasure  attached  to  moral  action, 
whether  it  be  self-seeking  or  extra-seeking,  we  readily  admit,  but 
this  is  far  from  giving  us  a proof  that  such  action  springs  from 
any  anticipation  of  the  pleasure  we  hope  to  obtain.  It  is  a pleas- 
ure to  a strong  man  to  exercise  his  limbs,  but  this  is  no  evidence 
that  he  cannot  have  any  other  motive  than  this  for  exercising 
them.  To  a man  devoted  to  business  it  is  a pleasure  to  be  per- 
petually absorbed  in  it,  but  still  his  activity  may  have  many  other 
grounds  of  excitement  besides  that  one.  Prove  as  you  may,  that 
pleasure  actually  accompanies,  and  even  that  we  expect  it  to  ac- 
company the  practice  of  every  virtue,  the  point  is  still  far  from 
being  settled  that  there  is  no  other  spring  of  virtuous  action  in  ex- 
istence. The  Deity,  assuredly,  may  have  given  us  a moral  law, 
may  have  engraved  it  on  our  own  minds,  and  placed  it  far  beyond 

* The  only  difference  between  Epicurus  or  Hobbes  on  the  one  side,fand  Bentham  on 
the  other,  is,  that  the  former  drew  their  principles  at  once  from  human  nature  meta- 
physically considered — while  the  latter  gave  no  theory  of  man  generally,  but  laid  down 
his  moral  axioms  as  ultimate  facts. 


MODERN'  PHILOSOPHY. 


276 

all  the  chances  of  human  calculation ; and  yet  may  have  attached 
pleasure  to  the  obedience  of  it  as  a mark  of  his  approval,  and  as  a 
reward  ibr  our  fidelity.  The  mere  fact,  therefore,  that  we  always 
look  for  happiness  to  accompany  virtuous  action,  does  not  at  all 
prove  that  happiness  is  the  ground  of  its  moral  excellence.  This 
is  confirmed  when  we  consider, 

2.  That,  upon  investigating  the  moral  phenomena  of  our  minds, 
we  find  a class  of  affections,  which  rise  in  their  real  worth  just  in 
proportion  to  their  disinterestedness.  If  personal  pleasure  were 
the  ground  of  virtue,  then  every  affection  ought  to  be  esteemed 
higher  in  the  scale  of  morality,  in  proportion  as  it  tends  more  di- 
rectly to  self  as  its  object.  Just  the  contrary  is  the  case.  The 
more  our  own  individual  interests  are  sacrificed  in  the  pursuit  of 
another’s  welfare,  the  higher  rises  the  scale  of  virtue  from  which 
such  conduct  proceeds.  If  it  be  said  that  we  sacrifice  our  own 
interests,  because  the  pleasure  of  satisfying  our  benevolent  feelings 
more  than  counterbalances  the  loss  we  sustain  ; we  reply,  that  this 
only  exhibits  the  vast  strength  of  our  purely  disinterested  affec- 
tions, and  affords  no  proof  that,  because  they  give  us  pleasure  in 
their  exercise,  therefore  they  must  be  selfish  in  their  origin.  Only 
show  in  one  single  instance,  that  the  direct  end  of  an  action  is  for 
the  sake  of  another  to  the  sacrifice  of  ourselves,  and  the  fact  that 
we  have  a moral  satisfaction  in  its  performance,  does  not  in  the 
slightest  degree  shake  its  purely  unselfish  character. 

3.  We  appeal  to  the  evidence  of  our  higher  reason,  as  a testi- 
mony against  this  peculiar  form  of  utilitarian  morality.  If  virtue 
be  a mere  calculation  of  consequences,  there  can  be  no  such  thing 
as  moral  philosophy,  strictly  so  called.  The  very  idea  of  philoso- 
phy, or  science,  implies  the  existence  of  absolute  or  unalterable 
truth,  not  only  that  which  is,  but  that  which  must  be.  Mathemat- 
ical science  investigates  the  unalterable  relations  of  space  and 
number ; metaphysical  science,  the  unalterable  foundations  of 
truth  in  general.  What,  we  ask,  can  moral  science  investigate, 
unless  it  be  the  unalterable  facts  and  principles  of  morality,  both 
in  themselves  and  in  their  relation  to  us. 

That  there  are  ceriom  fixed  relations  between  man’s  moral  sen- 
sibilities and  outward  actions,  is  a fact  resting  upon  the  evidence 
of  our  consciousness ; and  it  is  to  these  eternal  relations  that  we 
direct  our  inquiries,  when  we  seek  to  lay  the  groundwork  of  a moral 
philosophy.  Very  different,  however,  is  our  employment  when  we 
are  merely  engaged  in  calculating  for  our  future  happiness,  with 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


277 


pleasures  and  pains  as  our  ciphers.  What  is  a pleasure  to  one  man 
is  often  a pain  to  another  ; that  which  offers  to  me  satisfaction,  pre- 
sents, perhaps,  a prospect  of  nought  but  misery  to  you ; so  that 
moral  relations  on  this  principle  must  be  as  uncertain  and  variable 
as  are  the  temperaments  or  idiosyncrasies  of  individual  minds. 
There  need  to  be  on  the  deontological  system  a separate  moral  scale 
for  every  man ; nay,  we  ought  all  to  revise  our  own  moral  principles 
every  year  or  two,  to  see  whether  that  which  was  a pleasure  to  us 
some  time  ago  may  not  now  have  become  an  object  of  dissatisfac- 
tion : whether,  therefore,  that  which  was  virtue  has  not  now  become 
vice.  Our  reason,  we  contend,  in  opposition  to  this,  forces  us  to 
form  certain  primary  and  fundamental  moral  judgments,  just  as 
much  as  it  necessitates  the  existence  of  our  primary  beliefs  with 
regard  to  the  external  world,  or  to  the  fact  of  an  exertion  of  power 
in  the  production  of  every  effect,  or  to  the  axioms  which  lie  at  the 
foundation  of  all  mathematical  reasoning.  It  is  just  as  impossible 
for  me  practically  to  deny  the  obligation  of  justice,  as  it  is  to  deny 
that  the  world  exists,  or  that  a whole  is  greater  than  a part.  The 
one  as  well  as  the  other  rests  upon  the  primary  and  undeniable 
facts  of  our  own  unchangeable  consciousness, — ^facts  which,  though 
they  may  be  disputed  in  theory,  can  never  be  denied  in  practice. 
That  a philosophical  dreamer  may  run  his  head  against  the  wall 
on  the  score  of  his  idealism,  we  do  not  dispute ; nor  do  we  doubt, 
but  that  in  the  case  of  moral  obliquity,  where  the  consequences  of 
the  folly  are  not  so  immediate,  men  may  be  found  to  reject  the 
fundamental  axioms  of  moral  obligation ; but  in  the  healthy  un- 
derstandings of  the  mass  of  mankind,  the  one  judgment  is  just  as 
plainly  developed  as  the  other.  Moral  philosophy  then,  as  philos- 
ophy, is  annihilated,  when  once  we  admit  the  theory  before  us ; 
the  whole  question  is  taken  out  of  the  region  of  scientific  truth, 
and  reduced  simply  to  the  calculations  of  individual  sagacity. 

4.  There  is  a petitio  principii  at  the  very  foundation  of 

of  all  utilitarian  reasoning,  like  that  of  Bentham.  Every  man,  it 
is  affirmed,  ought  to  seek  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number,  as  the  fundamental  principle  of  his  actions  in  the  world. 
But  why  ought  he  to  do  so  ? On  what  ground  can  it  be  shown, 
that  I am  bound  to  seek  the  welfare  of  myself  or  my  fellow-crea- 
tures, if  there  is  no  such  thing  as  moral  obligation  ? If  it  pleases 
me  more  to  inflict  misery  upon  mankind,  why  am  I not  just  as  vir- 
tuous an  agent  in  doing  so,  as  if  I please  myself  by  producing  their 
happiness  ? The  greatest-happiness  principle  itself  must,  in  fact. 


278 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


rest  upon  the  pedestal  of  moral  obligation,  otherwise  there  is  no 
means  of  enforcing  it  as  the  true  principle  of  action,  either  in  our 
social  or  our  political  relations.  Take  away  that  firm  resting-place 
which  is  aflbrded  by  the  notion  of  duty,  and  expressed  in  the  word 
ought,  and  we  may  sink  from  one  position  down  to  another,  with- 
out ever  reaching  a solid  basis  on  which  we  may  plant  our  feet, 
and  lay  the  first  stone  of  a moral  superstructure.  That  this  is 
really  the  case,  is  half  acknowledged  by  the  followers  of  Bentham, 
who  are  now  visibly  shrinking  from  the  extreme  view  he  has  taken 
of  utilitarianism,  and  seeking  to  include  the  idea  of  moral  approba- 
tion, in  order  to  give  their  doctrine  some  degree  of  strength  and 
consistency. 

5.  Into  the  political  consequences  of  this  system  we  shall  not 
allow  ourselves  to  enter  at  any  length : one  thing,  however,  there 
is,  of  which  we  wmuld  remind  those  who  hold  up  the  excellence  of 
Bentham’s  political  writings,  as  a proof  of  the  soundness  of  his 
ethical  system  ; we  mean,  the  fact  that  Hobbes,  with  a logic  equally, 
if  not  more  severe,  deduced  from  the  very  same  fundamental  pi'in- 
ciples  the  propriety  of  all  government  being  grounded  on  absolute 
despotism,  as  the  form  best  suited  to  the  wants  of  human  nature. 
That  Bentham  was  so  successful  on  the  subject  of  jurisprudence! 
arose,  we  consider,  from  his  giving  up  the  strict  view  of  the  selfish 
system  with  which  he  started,  and  following  the  dictates  of  com- 
mon sense  and  of  a benevolence,  which  were  most  consonant  with 
his  own  disposition,  than  they  were  with  his  moral  theory. 

Moreover,  there  is  a fundamental  distinction  between  the  princi- 
ples of  legislation  and  those  of  private  morality,  which  should  never 
be  lost  sight  of.  The  former  principles  suppose  the  existence  of 
the  latter,  and  must  proceed  in  strict  accordance  with  them, 
whether  it  appear  a matter  of  policy  to  do  so  or  not.  The  object 
of  the  jurist  is,  simply  to  take  men  with  their  moral  feelings  as  they 
are,  already  fixed  and  determined,  and  so  to  direct  their  actions,  as 
to  bring  about  the  greatest  welfare  of  the  community.  Morality 
says,  “ Fiat  justitia  mat  coelum  jurisprudence  points  out  in  what 
way  justice  is  to  be  done,  so  as  to  tend  to  the  happiness  of  the  whole 
nation.  The  one  gives  the  absolute  rule  of  action,  the  other  only 
directs  the  details  for  social  purposes.  Moral  law  is  immediately 
from  God ; political  law,  though  springing  from  moral  principles,  is 
an  adaptation  of  man ; — the  one  is  a code  written  upon  the  tablet 
of  the  human  heart ; the  other,  a code  written  in  the  statute  book 
of  the  empire,  conformable,  indeed,  to  moral  law,  but  compiled  for 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


279 


social  utility.  To  morality,  as  a science,  the  utilitarian  ground  is 
entirely  destructive,  altering  its  universal  and  necessary  aspect ; in 
politics,  utility,  directed  by  moral  precept,  must  be  a chief  element 
in  every  enactment.  Bentham,  looking  at  the  subject  with  the  eye 
of  a jurist,  by  degrees  became  blind  to  everything  but  the  utilita- 
rian element — an  error  which,  while  only  partially  dangerous  in 
legislation,  is  to  the  moralist  fatal  and  deceptive  from  the  very  first 
step. 

That  Bentham  was  a great  man,  a courageous  man,  and  in  many 
respects  a benevolent  man,  we  believe  all  must  be  ready  to  admit ; 
still,  we  cannot  but  think,  that  he  neither  read  enough  to  disabuse 
his  mind  of  many  a cherished  notion,  which  a wider  range  of  in- 
vestigation would  have  exploded,  nor  ever  cultivated  enough  that 
steady  reflective  habit  of  mind  which  evolves  truth  from  the  obser- 
vation of  our  inward  consciousness,  and  reduces,  by  a close  anal- 
ysis, the  admitted  facts  of  human  nature  to  their  primary  origin. 
With  unexampled  patience  he  developed  the  influence  of  pleasure 
and  pain  upon  human  actions ; but  a deeper  philosophy  would  have 
pointed  out,  that  these  are  but  the  accompaniments  of  virtue,  while 
the  law  and  the  imperative  to  its  obedience  come  from  a surer  and 
a far  more  exalted  source.  That  source  once  discovered,  he  must 
soon  have  felt  how  threadbare  a view  of  man’s  moral  constitution 
his  favorite  greatest-happiness  principle  presents,  how  many  of  the 
noblest  motives  for  virtue  are  entirely  left  out,  and  how  much 
holier  is  the  meaning  attached  to  the  word  duty,  than  to  merit  the 
coarse  and  unphilosophical  ridicule  which  he  thought  fit  to  pour  out 
upon  it. 

I cannot  better  sum  up  these  remarks  on  Bentham’s  “ Deon- 
tology,” than  by  adopting  the  language  of  an  intelligent  reviewer, 
who  remarks — “ What  we  maintain  with  regard  to  deontology  is, 
that  with  dogmatic  exclusiveness  it  endeavors  to  supersede  every 
other  view  of  virtue  but  its  own,  and  even  the  high  principle  of 
duty  itself  That  in  the  estimates  it  presents  of  happiness  and  of 
virtue  it  takes  no  notice,  and  virtually  excludes  some  of  the  most 
influential  causes  of  happiness,  and  the  highest  objects  of  moral 
excellence : that  in  itself  it  tends  to  fix  the  mind  on  the  lowest 
principles  of  action,  and  presents  nothing  to  raise  it  towards  the 
highest : that  it  is  inconsistent  in  its  principles,  representations, 
and  conclusions,  with  the  established  laws  of  human  nature  : that 
its  statements  are  so  little  adjusted  by  moral  wisdom,  that  they 
may  often  afford  apparent  justification  for  degrading  vice ; and 


280 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


that  by  bringing  the  highest  rules  of  duty  to  the  test  of  a standard, 
with  which  they  have  little  relation,  their  comprehensiveness  and 
their  dignity  is  lessened,  and  their  direction  limited  and  perverted. 
Were  the  deontology  generally  made  the  exclusive  guide  of  life, 
degradation  and  evil  must  be  the  result.”* 

We  have  thus  viewed  the  principal  methods  by  which  the  objec- 
tive question  of  moral  philosophy  (what  is  the  ground  of  virtue  ?) 
has  been  answered  by  the  adherents  of  the  sensational  school.  The 
error  we  now  see  in  each  case,  is  that  which  lies  *at  the  foundation 
of  all  sensationalism,  namely,  the  tendency  to  look  without,  and 
derive  all  truth  from  experience,  to  the  entire  neglect  both  of  our 
inner  consciousness,  and  of  those  notions  of  absolute  truth  which 
are  as  certain  as  they  are  indestructible.f 

II.  We  come  now  to  the  consideration  of  the  subjective  sensa- 
tional ethics  of  the  present  century. 

The  problem  which  moral  philosophy,  subjectively  considered, 
endeavors  to  solve,  is  the  following  : — What  is  the  faculty  by  which 
we  become  cognizant  of  virtue  and  vice,  and  what  other  faculties 
contribute  to  the  perfection  of  our  moral  nature  ? According  as 
the  primary  moral  sentiment  of  the  human  mind  has  been  referred 
to  a judgment,  or  to  an  inward  feeling,  the  names  of  intellectual 
theorists,  or  of  emotional  theorists,  have  been  respectively  awarded 
to  the  two  corresponding  classes  of  speculators.  The  idea  of  a 
maral  sense,  that  is,  of  a peculiar  and  original  emotion,  by  which 
we  are  led  to  the  exercise  of  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation, 
is  altogether  rejected  by  sensationalism ; since,  in  that  case,  there 
would  be  at  least  one  subjective  tendency  in  the  human  mind, 
which  does  not  come  from  an  empirical  source.  Equally  incom- 
patible, on  the  other  hand,  with  sensational  principles,  is  the  theory 
of  a primitive  moral  judgment,  by  which  we  discern  right  and 
wrong  in  actions,  and  form  the  distinct  conceptions  of  good  and 
evil.  If  therefore,  our  moral  sentiments  arise  neither  from  an  im- 
planted emotion  or  inward  sense,  nor  from  a primary  judgment  of 
our  intellectual  nature,  the  only  possibility  that  remains  is,  that 
they  are  factitious,  that  they  arise  gradually  by  the  aid  of  experi- 
ence and  the  laws  of  association,  and  that  they  depend,  therefore, 
like  the  rest  of  our  empirical  knowledge,  simply  upon  the  informa- 
tion of  the  external  senses  for  their  origin.  Sensationalism,  then, 
advocates  the  intellectual  theory  of  morals,  only  in  this  subordinate 

* Christian  Reformer,  1835. 

t For  an  estimate  of  the  Benthamites  generally,  see  Sir  James  Mackintosh’s 
“ Dissertation.” 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


281 


sense  ; virtuous  action  being  a calculation  grounded  on  the  expe- 
rience of  pleasures  and  pains,  of  injury  or  utility.  The  arguments 
against  this  utilitarian  view  of  the  case  we  have  already  summed 
up,  and  need  not,  therefore,  at  present  recount. 

But  now,  in  approaching  the  subjective  side  of  moral  philosoph}', 
and  attempting  to  explain  the  mental  processes,  upon  which  our 
moral  life  depends,  there  is  a question  of  vast  importance  which 
meets  us  at  the  very  outset,  and  that  is  the  question  of  the  liberty 
or  necessity  of  the  human  will.  According  as  this  point  is  settled 
one  way  or  the  other,  the  whole  succeeding  inquiry  will  assume  a 
very  different  aspect ; in  fact,  the  sensational  theory  of  responsi- 
bility is  almost  entirely  built  upon  the  doctrine  of  necessity,  as  its 
foundation. 

The  point  here  to  be  considered  is  not  whether  our  actions  are 
merely  mechanical  or  otherwise ; not  whether  or  no  we  have  the 
power  to  act  according  to  the  determination  of  our  will ; it  is  the 
prior  question,  whether  the  mind  in  exercising  volition,  can  deter- 
mine itself,  or  whether  it  is  necessarily  determined  by  motives. 
That  we  are  conscious  of  voluntary  action,  as  flowing  from  a de- 
termination or  choice,  in  contradistinction  to  the  purely  mechan- 
ical functions  of  the  frame,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  assert ; the 
only  real  question  to  be  discussed  is — How  come  we  to  our  deter- 
minations ? What  is  it  that  puts  the  mind  into  the  state  of  vo- 
lition, from  which  certain  acts  or  courses  of  action  follow  ? 

Now,  just  in  proportion  as  the  fundamental  idea  of  self,  as  finite 
cause,  holds  a prominent  place  in  our  philosophy,  will  there  be  a 
greater  share  assigned  to  it  in  the  process,  by  which  our  volitions 
and  dispositions  are  formed ; on  the  contrary,  the  greater  be  the 
tendency  to  absorb  this  idea  in  that  of  finite  nature  or  of  the  in- 
finite, so  much  the  less  will  be  the  influence  ascribed  to  our  own 
personal  power  in  the  direction  of  our  actions,  and  the  moulding  of 
our  character.  Pure  subjective  idealism  makes  self,  or  the  will, 
within  its  own  limits,  omnipotent.  Pure  objective  idealism,  on  the 
other  hand,  like  that  of  Spinoza,  by  absorbing  the  individual  self  in 
the  infinite  substance,  necessitates  absolute  fatalism  : and,  thirdly, 
pure  sensationalism,  which  makes  man  simply  one  form  of  organ- 
ized matter,  must,  in  like  manner,  end  in  a fatalism  equally  com- 
plete, because,  on  this  hypothesis,  we  must  be  subject  absolutely  to 
material  laws,  and  become  exactly  what  the  outward  circumstances 
we  are  placed  in  render  us.  This  last  theory,  therefore,  we  term 
circumstantial  fatalism. 


282 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Modified  systems  of  philosophy,  again,  will  present  different 
features  of  liberty  or  necessity,  according  as  any  one  of  these 
three  elements,  self,  nature,  or  God,  prevails  over  the  other  two ; 
those  which  refer  most  to  God  and  to  nature,  upholding  a modified, 
or,  as  it  is  termed,  a philosophical  idea  of  necessity  ; and  those 
which  refer  most  to  the  native  powers  and  energies  of  the  mind, 
maintaining  the  ordinary  doctrine  of  free-will.  A philosophical 
necessity,  grounded  on  the  idea  of  God’s  foreknowledge,  has  been 
supported  by  theologians  of  the  Calvinistic  school,  more  or  less 
rigidly,  throughout  the  whole  of  the  present  century.  Their  con- 
clusions, however,  have  arisen  more  from  dogmatic  than  from 
scientific  considerations.  On  the  other  hand,  philosophical  neces- 
sity, grounded  upon  the  influence  of  external  nature,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances which  surround  us,  has  given  a tone,  and,  moi'e  re- 
cently, a very  decided  one,  to  all  the  ethical  writings  of  the  sensa- 
tional school. 

We  may  comprehend  the  foregoing  remarks  in  the  following 
summary.  Let  self,  nature.  Deity,  be  three  powers,  the  two  former 
of  course  ci'eated,  and  allowed  to  exist  by  the  last.  If  the  power, 
self,  is  entirely  uncontrolled,  the  result  is  pure  subjective  idealism. 
If  it  be  entirely  neutralized  by  Deity,  the  result  is  religious  fatal- 
ism, if  by  nature  it  is  circumstantial  fatalism.  Again,  if  self  is 
only  predominantly  controlled,  the  result  is  philosophical  necessity, 
whether  the  power  opposed  to  it  is  that  of  Deity  or  of  nature ; 
and,  lastly,  if  it  conti'ol  itself,  subject  to  the  subordinate  influences 
of  the  other  two  powers,  the  result  is  termed  free-will.  From  these 
representations  it  will  be  evident,  that  sensationalism  in  philosophy 
tends  to  uphold  the  doctrine  of  necessity,  which  will,  of  course, 
advance  nearer  and  nearer  to  circumstantial  fatalism  in  proportion 
as  the  sensational  principles  become  more  sweeping. 

In  sketching  the  history  of  sensationalism  during  the  last  cen- 
tury, we  showed  in  what  manner  Hartley  and  Priestley  drew  the 
doctrine  of  philosophical  necessity  from  their  peculiar  psychologi- 
cal principles.  We  may  now  add,  that  it  is  in  a direct  line  from 
these  acute  authors,  that  all  the  subjective  sensational  ethics,  which 
are  now  to  be  described,  have  regularly  and  connectedly  flowed, 
so  that  we  may  regard  all  the  necessarianism  of  the  present  age 
as  the  natural  offspring  of  a sensational  psychology.  One  of  the 
most  celebrated  works  in  which  the  moral  philosophy  of  this  school 
was  developed,  is  the  well-known  inquiry  of  Godwin  concerning 
“ Political  justice.”  Godwin  might,  indeed,  have  held  in  our 


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283 


sketch  a place  with  Paley  and  Bentham,  as  the  uncompromising 
advocate  of  utilitarianism  ; but  his  writings  are  equally  celebrated 
for  their  defence  of  the  doctrine  of  necessity,  and  the  application 
of  it  both  to  private  morality  and  political  principles. 

The  publication  of  the  “ Political  Justice”  dates  from  the  year 
1793,  and  from  that  period  down  even  to  the  present  time,  the 
moralists  who  have  arisen  from  the  school  of  Hartley,  Priestley,  and 
primarily  of  Locke,  have  in  almost  every  instance  advocated  ne-, 
cessarian  principles,  based  upon  an  exaggerated  statement  of  the 
influence  of  external  circumstances.  To  enumerate  the  mere 
names  of  writers  who,  during  the  present  century,  have  treated 
the  various  topics  of  moral  philosophy  upon  this  necessarian  hy- 
pothesis, (most  of  whom  have  drawn  largely  upon  the  works  of 
Jonathan  Edwards  for  their  arguments,)  would  be  both  useless  and 
tedious.  The  class,  however,  to  which  we  allude,  are  those,  be- 
ginning chronologically  with  Belsham,  who  published  his  “ Ele- 
ments of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  and  of  Morality,” 
in  the  year  1801,  and  coming  down  to  Mr.  Bray’s  work  on  the 
“Philosophy  of  Necessity,”  which  appeared  in  the  year  1841. 

In  glancing  at  the  principles  of  the  ethicosensational  school, 
which  fills  up  the  interval  between  these  two  writers,  I shall  not 
confine  myself  to  the  statements  of  any  particular  authors,  neither 
do  I wish  the  reader  to  infer,  that  they  all  would  admit  the  conse- 
quences which  we  may  find  to  be  included  in  their  system.  Most 
of  them,  indeed,  so  far  from  taking  up  the  necessarian  hypothesis, 
with  a view  of  undermining  the  interests  of  true  morality,  have 
done  so,  as  being,  in  their  opinion,  the  only  means  of  saving  them. 
The  advocates  of  free-will,  it  is  known,  on  the  contrary,  have 
done  the  same  ; and  as  in  such  cases  it  is  natural  to  suspect,  that 
there  is  a portion  of  truth  on  both  sides  of  the  question,  we  must 
attempt  to  ascertain  the  fundamental  ideas  upon  which  these 
writers  pi'oceed,  and  to  find  out  the  real  point  of  discrepancy  be- 
tween them.  The  moral  system  of  the  sensational  necessarians 
assumes  for  the  most  part  the  following  aspect,  which,  for  the  sake 
of  clearness,  we  shall  concentrate  into  a few  detached  sentences. 

Man  is  born  without  any  moral  principles,  notions,  or  tenden- 
cies, whatever.* 

He  has  the  capacity,  however,  of  feeling  pleasure  or  pain,  which 

♦ Those  of  the  class  now  under  consideration,  who  adopt  phrenology,  take,  of  course, 
a different  view  of  this  point;  but  in  other  respects  they  generally  coincide  with  what 
we  here  lay  down. 


284 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


arise  either  from  this  direct  sensations,  or  from  the  satisfaction  or 
non-satisfaction  of  his  propensities. 

That  which  produces  pleasure  is  good,  that  which  produces  pain 
is  evil. 

Pleasure,  when  not  actually  enjoyed,  but  only  in  contemplation, 
is  what  we  term  desire,  as  pain  in  contemplation  is  fear,  or 
aversion. 

Desire,  again,  is  synonymous  with  will ; what  we  desire  to  pos- 
sess is,  all  things  considei’ed,  necessarily  the  object  of  volition. 

We  cannot  ourselves  determine,  what  sensations  shall  give  us 
pleasure,  or  the  reverse  ; consequently  our  will  with  regard  to  the 
seeking  or  production  of  them  cannot  be  free. 

With  regard  to  our  ideas,  associations,  and  habits,  it  entirely  de- 
pends upon  our  education,  which  shall  be  objects  of  desire,  and 
which  shall  not. 

Consequently,  our  desires,  that  is,  our  volitions,  are  absolutely 
and  necessarily  determined  by  motives,  those  motives  arising  either 
from  our  constitution  or  from  our  education. 

As  our  actions  follow  our  will,  and  the  will  follows  the  motives 
to  which  it  is  subjected,  it  is  impossible  that  any  man  should 
act  differently  from  what  he  really  does  under  the  same  circum- 
stances. 

This  is  seen  from  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  Every  voli- 
tion must  have  a cause,  and  while  the  same  causes  exist  the  same 
effects  must  follow. 

Moral  causation  is  as  sure  and  regular  in  its  effects  as  physical. 

On  this  alone  is  grounded  the  value  and  certainty  of  moral 
means,  and  from  this  alone  results  the  real  moral  worth  of  every 
action ; since  action,  without  motive,  can  have  no  moral  quality 
about  it.  So  far  the  necessarian. 

Now,  in  opposition  to  these  principles,  the  libertarian  denies  that 
volition  and  desire  are  one  and  the  same  thing,  or  that  the  doctrine 
of  causation  applies  to  the  determinations  of  voluntary  agents  in 
the  same  sense  as  it  does  to  everything  else ; and  he  appeals  to  va- 
rious facts  of  our  nature  in  order  to  bear  out  this  view.  First  of 
all,  he  appeals  to  consciousness,  which  if  it  does  not  subject  us  to 
perpetual  deception,  assures  us  every  moment  of  our  existence, 
that  we  are  not  absolutely  under  the  power  of  motives,  that  we  can 
follow  one  course  or  another  as  we  may  choose,  that  we  might 
have  chosen  differently  in  the  past,  and  that  we  may  voluntarily 
mould  our  course  for  the  future.  Again,  he  appeals  to  the  whole 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


285 


aspect  of  practical  life,  showing  that  it  is  all  based  upon  the  notion 
of  man’s  being  a free  agent;  that  it  is  not  by  necessity,  for  instance, 
that  we  build  houses,  construct  engines,  carry  on  business,  or  do 
anything  else  of  the  same  nature.  And,  finally,  he  appeals  to  man’s 
moral  sentiments,  and  argues,  that  although  motives  may  be  neces- 
sary to  the  goodness  or  badness  of  an  action,  yet  if  those  motives 
are  supreme,  the  moral  quality  is  entirely  taken  away  from  the 
agent,  w'ho  can  only  justly  incur  approbation  or  disapprobation 
when  he  follows  either  a good  or  bad  motive  with  the  most  perfect 
freedom  of  volition.  Such  is  the  popular  view  of  these  famous 
antagonistic  opinions. 

Now,  in  estimating  these  two  systems,  let  us  see,  first,  what  the 
necessarian  means  by  his  doctrine  of  moral  causation  ; whether, 
in  fact,  he  means  anything  at  all  contradictory  to  the  common 
notion  of  free  agency.  If  all  our  volitions  have  an  objective  cause, 
(that  is  to  say,  a cause,  not  a part  of,  or  dependent  upon,  ourselves,) 
which  is  certain  and  unalterable  in  its  effects  ; then  it  is  manifestly 
impossible  to  avoid  the  conclusion,  that  man  is  the  subject  of  an 
irresistible  fate.  Every  action,  it  is  said,  is  the  effect  of  a volition, 
but  every  volition  is  produced  by  a motive  (or,  in  the  language  of 
necessity,  a cause)  over  which  we  have  no  control ; the  inevitable 
conclusion  is,  that  man  is  as  much  a machine  under  the  effect  of 
motives,  as  a steam  engine  is  under  the  impulse  of  its  moving 
power.  This  conclusion,  too,  be  it  observed,  applies  to  man's  whole 
practical  life ; if  it  be  true  at  all,  it  must  be  true  respecting  the 
whole  province  of  human  action,  because  every  possible  action  is 
the  result  of  some  volition,  and  every  possible  volition  the  result 
of  some  motive.  The  reasoner,  therefore,  who  argues,  that  every 
moral  or  immoral  action  which  a man  commits  is  necessary,  be- 
cause certain  motives  have  acted  irresistibly  upon  him  from  with- 
out, must  accept  the  full  conclusion,  that  everything  else  in  human 
life  takes  place  by  a like  constraint ; that  by  a similar  necessity  an 
agent  makes  clothes,  or  mends  shoes,  or  builds  houses,  lights  fires, 
cooks  provisions,  and  does  everything  else,  that  depends  upon  our 
so  called  voluntary  activity.  The  fatalism  here  involved  cannot 
be  met  by  the  plea,  that  the  agent  in  question  placed  himself  in  the 
way  of  circumstances,  which  have  led  him  to  this  or  that  particu- 
lar mode  of  life ; for  if  he  did  so,  it  was  by  means  of  a volition 
that  he  did  it,  and  that  volition  was  determined  by  a previous  mo- 
tive. Neither  can  it  be  met  by  the  plea,  that  he  was  induced  by 
some  other  agent  to  follow  one  course  of  action  or  another ; for 


286 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


that  agent,  likewise,  was  the  creatui'e  of  fate.  His  will  to  prompt 
was  determined  by  a like  necessity ; and  the  will  previous  to,  and 
causative  of  that,  was  determined  in  the  same  manner ; so  that, 
beginning  at  any  action  of  any  voluntary  agent,  we  may  go  back 
through  a succession  of  causes,  till  we  come  to  the  great  first 
cause,  and  thus  evolve  the  idea  that  the  whole  of  human  actions 
are  one  chain  of  cause  and  effect  absolutely  fixed  and  determined 
from  eternity,  to  eternity. 

Now,  the  philosophical  necessarian,  we  know,  shrinks  from  prac- 
tically accepting  that  conclusion.  He  will  not  admit  an  absolute 
and  fixed  necessity,  but  only  a moral  or  philosophical  one.  Be- 
sides, he  speaks  largely  of  education,  and  the  importance  of  reme- 
dial means,  and  the  benefit  of  cultivating  the  intellectual  powers 
and  the  moral  feelings : moreover,  he  exhorts  his  fellow-men,  on 
the  very  ground  of  his  doctrine  of  moral  causation,  to  get  the 
sources  of  proper  culture  for  themselves,  and  to  put  them  into  the 
hands  of  the  people  at  large,  as  the  only  method  of  making  them 
virtuous  and  happy.  Astounding  folly  must  all  that  be,  if  human 
things  are  not  contingent ; if  they  move  in  a chain  of  cause  and 
effect  from  the  eternity  past  to  the  eternity  to  come ; and  if  all  our 
actions  are  absolutely  determined  by  what  is  entirely  beyond  our 
control.  Exhortation  and  eftbrt  must  be  quite  out  of  place  if  the 
whole  sum  and  substance  of  human  life  is  a necessary  chain  of 
this  nature,  for  whatever  we  may  appear  to  do  of  our  own  accord 
is,  on  this  system,  but  the  mockery  of  a liberty,  which  we  seem 
to  possess,  but  which  practises  upon  us  a complete  and  perpetual 
illusion.  This  extreme,  then,  we  repeat,  the  philosophical  neces- 
sarian avoids  : he  shrinks  back  from  the  abyss  of  fatalism,  however 
strongly  his  principles  may  draw  him  to  its  brink. 

If,  then,  the  doctrine  of  necessity,  thus  modified  by  the  term  phil- 
osophical, does  not  mean  that  all  human  life  is  machinery,  that  it 
is  a series  of  fixed  results  which  can  never  be  altered,  it  must  ad- 
mit, in  some  form  and  to  some  extent  or  other,  that  man  is  the 
master  and  regulator  of  his  own  mind,  and  has  sufficient  control 
over  his  dispositions  and  actions  either  to  render  himself  improv- 
able, or  to  make  himself  a subject  of  blame  when  the  means  of  im- 
provement are  neglected.  Whether  improvement  originate  in 
ourselves,  or  in  the  influence  of  another,  still  it  originates  in  man, 
and  equally  shows  him  to  be  in  some  sense  a source  of  moral 
action. 

Now  let  us  look  for  a moment  at  the  libertarian  hypothesis,  and 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


287 


see  wherein  it  differs  from  the  foregoing.  First  and  foremost,  we 
find  a certain  power  of  self-determining  volition  asserted  ; that  is, 
as  its  opponents  correctly  show,  the  power  of  choosing  without 
preference,  or  a choice  without  choice.  The  advocates  of  this 
self-determining  power,  with  all  their  zeal,  can  never  show  any 
decisive  cases  in  which  we  choose  without  being  induced  by  a 
motive  ; they  are  always  obliged,  for  illustration,  to  have  recourse 
to  some  altogether  insignificant  actions,  (such  as  choosing  one  out 
of  fifty  shillings,)  which  cannot,  in  the  nature  of  things,  have  any 
moral  quality  attached  to  them ; while  in  all  the  important  move- 
ments of  our  life,  those  by  which  our  character  is  estimated,  it  is 
perfectly  evident  that  we  do  and  must  act  under  the  influence  of 
certain  motives.  The  libertarian,  in  fact,  when  pushed  hard  by 
his  opponent,  is  always  obliged  to  concede  the  point,  that  motives 
not  only  have  an  influence  upon  us,  but  do  really  detei'mine  our 
choice  in  all  the  great  practical  affairs  of  human  life,  nay,  that  the 
existence  of  a motive  is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  moral  quality 
of  every  action  ; so  that  we  must,  after  all,  admit  that  man  does 
not  act  ordinarily  free  from  motives,  but  in  strict  accordance  with 

them. 

Now  let  us  see  in  what  consists  the  discrepancy  between  these 
two  antagonist  doctrines,  when  shorn  of  their  respective  anom- 
alies. The  necessarian,  if  he  mean  anything  by  prefixing  the 
word  philosophical  to  his  favorite  dogma,  admits  that  man  is  in 
some  sense  a free  agent ; that  he  forms  plans,  that  he  modifies 
character,  that  he  acts  upon  design  which  he  can  carry  out  or 
suspend  ; in  one  word,  that  he  is  all  that  the  libertarian  would 
contend  for,  except  that  his  volitions  are  ever  determined  by  the 
strongest  motives,  instead  of  determining  themselves.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  libertarian,  when  pressed  for  his  proof  of  the  self- 
determining  power,  is  at  a loss  to  find  any  decisive  actions,  in 
which  this  power  exercises  itself  in  opposition  to,  or  irrespective 
of  every  kind  of  inducement.  The  only  real  point  of  dispute  left, 

then,  is  this — how  are  we  to  reconcile  that  power  of  free  and  in- 
telligent action,  that  capacity  of  design,  that  source  of  ameliora- 
tion, or  the  reverse,  which  all  admit  to  exist  within  ourselves,  with 
the  unquestionable  fact,  that  we  ever  choose,  and  must  choose  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  strongest  inducement  ? In  other  words, 
how  is  our  freedom  of  choice  consistent  with  the  necessity  of  act- 
ing from  a motive  ? 

The  whole  of  the  difficulty  we  now  see  is  traced  up  to  the  word 


288 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


motive,  and  therefore  it  is  in  the  analysis  of  tliis  term  that  we  must 
look  for  illumination.  What,  then,  is  a motive  ? Strictly  speak- 
ing, it  is  that  which  immediately  precedes  our  determination  to  act. 
That  which  immediately  leads  to  such  a determination,  however, 
must  evidently  be  an  emotion,  for  it  is  granted  on  all  hands,  that 
emotions  are  the  only  active  or  impulsive  principles  of  our  nature. 
A motive,  therefore,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  can  be  nothing 
else  than  the  mind  itself  in  a certain  state  of  feeling ; and  in  this 
view  of  the  case  there  can  be  little  difficulty  in  admitting,  that 
every  volition  is  determined  by  means  of  a motive,  inasmuch  as  this 
is  only  another  expression  for  the  palpable  fact  just  stated,  that 
the  mind  in  a state  of  emotion  is  the  immediate  antecedent  of  all 
human  action.  Necessarians  are  perpetually  arguing  as  though 
motives  were  objective  realities,  whereas  nothing  objective  can 
possibly  have  the  least  power  in  exciting  us  to  action,  until  it  is 
subjectively  combined  with  some  kind  of  emotional  feeling.  Such 
emotional  feeling  alone  it  is,  which  acts  as  a moving  power  upon 
the  will. 

We  see,  therefore,  at  once,  if  this  be  true,  in  what  manner  man, 
though  under  the  necessity  of  acting  in  accordance  with  motives, 
is  yet  perfectly  free.  He  cannot,  it  is  true,  alter  the  relation 
which  God  has  instituted  betw'een  emotions  and  volitions  generally, 
inasmuch  as  that  would  be  to  alter  the  very  laws  of  our  constitu- 
tion, but  there  are  a thousand  ways  by  which  he  modifies  his  own 
states  of  feeling,  and  through  them,  of  course,  his  volitions  also. 
The  relation  between  emotion  and  volition  stands  on  the  same 
footing  as  that  which  exists  between  our  perception  of  premises 
and  our  inferring  from  them  a logical  conclusion.  It  is  entirely 
beyond  our  power  to  refuse  a logical  conclusion,  while  we  have  a 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  given  premises,  nor  can  our  belief 
be  possibly  modif  ed,  so  long  as  the  data  remain  to  us  unchanged  ; 
but  we  can  easily  reconsider  those  data,  and  then,  according  as 
we  find  them  confirmed  or  shaken,  we  frequently  strengthen  or 
subvert  our  belief  in  the  conclusion.  Just  so,  in  the  other  case, 
while  the  motive  remains,  the  volition  must  necessarily  follow  ; 
but  that  motive,  we  must  remember,  is  a state  of  mind,  which  we 
can  control  by  a thousand  different  methods  ; and  hence,  if  we 
can  control  the  motive,  through  it  we  can  control  the  volition  as 
well.  It  is  precisely  the  same  fallacy  in  principle  which  leads  one 
man  to  say,  “ That  we  can  no  more  change  our  belief  than  we  can 
chanp-e  the  color  of  our  skin,”  and  another  man  to  sav,  “ That  our 


SENSATIO\ALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


289 


volitions  are  absolutely  fixed  by  circumstances  beyond  our  con- 
trol.” Of  course,  we  can  never  alter  the  relation  between  the 
perception  of  premise  and  conclusion,  nor  between  internal  mo- 
tive and  volition ; but  we  can,  as  we  every  day  do,  throw  fresh 
light  upon  premises  in  the  one  case,  and  bring  fresh  inducements 
to  bear  upon  our  volitions  in  the  other. 

We  might  explain  the  fixed  relation  that  exists  between  motive 
(in  the  sense  just  explained)  and  volition,  by  a reference  to  the 
mathematical  idea  attached  to  the  v/ord.  function.  A sine,  we  say, 
is  the  function  of  an  angle.  There  is  a relation  between  them 
which  can  never  be  altered ; and  hence,  so  long  as  you  have  a par- 
ticular angle  in  contemplation,  the  sine  is  necessarily  determined. 
If  you  require  a sine  of  a different  magnitude,  the  only  possible  w'ay 
of  obtaining  it  is  by  taking  an  angle  of  a different  magnitude ; the 
one  varying  with  the  other,  because  the  relation  between  them  is 
abiding.  In  like  manner  it  is  impossible  to  alter  the  relation  be- 
tween our  motives  and  our  volitions,  the  one  following  necessarily 
from  the  other ; but  notwithstanding  this,  we  have  a spontaneous 
power  upon  our  motives  (i.  e.  our  emotional  states),  by  the  exer- 
cise of  which  we  can  either  reverse  or  modify  our  volitions  almost 
to  any  extent  we  choose.  Volition  is  a function  of  the  mind,  and 
by  whatever  means  we  can  influence  the  mind  as  a whole,  we  have 
by  those  very  means  a power  over  the  determinations  of  the  will. 
All  this  is  indeed  tacitly  granted  and  implied  by  the  necessarian, 
when  he  exhorts  his  fellow-man  to  the  cultivation  of  his  intellectual 
and  moral  feelings. 

But  to  all  this  argumentation,  I am  aware,  the  necessarian  oppo- 
nent might  now  urge  in  reply,  that  the  very  fact  of  our  influencing 
our  own  mental  states  by  the  presentation  of  fresh  motives  and 
inducements  to  the  mind,  must  itself  depend  upon  a volition,  which 
volition  is  determined  by  a previous  motive,  and  so  on,  ad  infinitum. 
It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  motive  here  means  a mental 

I 

state,  and  that  our  mental  states  do  not  solely  depend  upon  external 
circumstances,  over  which  we  have  no  control,  but  also  upon  our 
own  spontaneity.  If  this  spontaneity  be  denied  as  a part  of  our 
constitution,  and  man  be  made  wholly  dependent  upon  externals, 
then  we  must  appeal  to  psychology,  for  in  the  psychology  we  start 
with,  the  whole  question  is  cradled. 

The  argument  of  the  necessarian — that  every  volition  must  be 
determined  by  a previous  volition,  and  so  on  to  infinity,  will  only 
hold  good  on  the  psychological  principle,  that  will  and  desire  are 

19 


290 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHr. 


the  same  thing,  both  equally  expressing  a passive  state  into  which 
we  are  j^laced  by  the  strongest  inducement.  The  psychology, 
which  maintains  this  theory,  starts  from  sensation,  and  from  it  de- 
rives all  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind.  The  mind  itself  in 
its  view  is  passive  ; it  is  a bare  receptacle  of  impi’essions  and  feel- 
ings, a sheet  of  blank  papeii;  and  every  volition,  therefore,  must  on 
this  theory  have  its  cause  or  circumstances  out  of  ourselves.  This 
psychology,  however,  we  disown ; we  regard  it  as  altogether  un- 
tenable ; disproved,  and  exploded,  by  the  strictest  inductive  analy- 
sis of  the  facts  of  our  consciousness. 

A close  analysis  of  these  facts  enables  us  to  detect  three  classes 
of  phenomena  in  the  human  mind ; those,  namely,  of  intelligence, 
oi feeling,  of  will — a classification  to  which  all  modern  science  is 
tending.  Intelligence  creates  conceptions,  laws,  rules  of  action ; 
sensibility  supplies  inducements  and  impulses  ; will  creates  effort, 
activity,  the  emission  of  voluntary  power.  Between  the  faculty  as 
cause  and  the  product  as  effect,  there  is  no  intermediate  step.  It 
is  no  more  requisite  to  ask,  why  will  produces  effort  and  choice, 
than  to  ask,  why  intelligence  gives  rise  to  ideas,  or  sensibility  to 
impulses  ? The  supposition  that  voluntary  effort  and  choice  can 
spring  causatively  from  an  inducement  or  external  motive,  is  the 
old  error  of  sensationalism  invading  the  theory  of  the  will,  that, 
namely,  of  substituting  the  occasion  for  the  producing  cause.  The 
understanding  and  the  feelings  both  present  inducements  to  the 
will ; and  because  the  will  follows  some  or  other  of  them,  it  is  sup- 
posed to  be  necessarily  determined ; but  this  is  a false  conclusion. 
These  inducements  are  but  the  occasions  of  our  volition ; the 
power  which  produces  them  is  that  original  spontaneity,  that  inde- 
pendent source  of  action  which  we  term  the  Will  or  the  Me,  and 
which  can  react  upon  all  the  arguments  of  reason  and  all  the  im- 
pulses of  emotion.  The  will,  as  an  abiding  fact  in  our  constitution, 
contributes  a large  element  to  the  formation  of  every  motive,  and 
when  the  motives  are  presented,  it  gives  the  whole  nisus,  by  which 
volition  or  choice  is  effected. 

Whenever  or  wherever  power  is  put  forth,  there  must  be  not 
only  an  occasion,  but  also  an  effort  or  a spontaneous  movement  as 
its  cause.  Hence  all  power  originates  in  mind — the  only  sponta- 
neous principle,  and  that  either  the  mind  of  God  or  the  mind  of  man  ; 
and  the  very  same  argument  which  pretends  to  prove  that  man  is 
not  free,  because  he  chooses  from  reasons  or  inducements,  would 
also  prove  that  God  is  not  free,  because  he  never  acts  without  a 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


291 


plan.  If  we  once  give  up  the  idea  of  spontaneity,  as  the  spring  of 
effort  or  choice,  and  account  for  that  effort  by  the  inducement 
alone,  nothing  can  save  us  from  the  admission  of  an  enormous  and 
iron  fatalism,  to  which  God  and  man  are  alike  subjected. 

We  allow,  then,  that  volitions  must  necessarily  follow  from 
motives ; that  there  is  in  fact  a fixed  relation  between  them ; but 
those  motives  are  subjective  states  of  mind,  such  as  dispositions, 
affections,  passions,  &c.,  which  our  intellectual  and  active  nature 
are  adapted  by  their  very  constitution  to  develop,  or  to  restrain. 
When,  therefore,  the  necessarian  enunciates  the  great  truth,  that 
no  man  could  have  acted  differently  from  what  he  did  under  the 
given  motives,  all  that  he  really  expresses,  if  he  be  not  a fatalist,  is 
the  commonplace  and  most  obvious  fact,  that  emotions  are  the 
active  principles  of  our  nature,  and  that  we  always  act  in  accord- 
ance with  their  impulse.  If  he  denies  that  we  have  any  control 
over  these  inward  motives,  then  all  his  exhortations  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  intellect  and  the  feelings  are  nought  but  folly,  and  there 
is  no  refuge  but  in  complete  circumstantial  fatalism.  We  affirm, 
then,  that  in  principle  there  are  onli/  two  possible  hypotheses  re- 
specting liberty  and  necessity ; the  one  is  fatalism,  the  other  is  free- 
will, in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  employed  it. 

There  is  one  thing  which  we  freely  grant  to  be  fixed  and  neces- 
sary on  every  hypothesis,  namely,  the  relation  existing  between 
our  emotions  and  our  volitions ; and  the  philosophical  necessarian, 
keeping  his  eye  upon  that  point,  has  unstamped  all  volition  as  con- 
strained, because  it  is  always  excited  by  a uniform  and  definite  law 
of  our  nature  : but  as  well  might  he  call  our  actions  constrained 
also,  because  they  necessarily  follow  whenever  the  volition  dic- 
tates and  impels.  When  we  see  an  action,  (unless  it  be  a purely 
mechanical  one),  we  know  that  it  arises  from  a volition : and  in 
the  same  way,  when  we  observe,  or  are  conscious  of  a volition,  we 
know  that  it  arises  from  an  emotion  as  its  real  proximate  exciting 
cause  ; but  behind  both  these  lies  the  solid  basis  of  human  liberty, 
grounded  upon  that  intelligence  and  native  activity,  which  are  the 
indestructible  attributes  of  all  moral  and  responsible  creatures. 

Self  and  nature,  as  we  have  already  seen,  are  both  of  them 
powers,  which  act  and  react  upon  each  other.  Some  men,  un- 
questionably, are  more  under  the  influence  of  external  things  than 
others,  while  some,  on  the  contrary,  have  w-hat  we  term  a strong 
will;  that  is,  they  possess  a great  capacity  and  habit  of  acting 
from  fixed  design  rather  than  from  short-sighted  and  more  impul- 


292 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


sive  motives ; but  in  eithei’  case,  the  real  course  pursued  is  the  re- 
sultant of  those  two  forces.  Men  who  look  most  to  the  outw'ard 
force,  will  form  an  exaggerated  idea  of  its  magnitude,  and  incline 
to  the  sensational  form  of  philosophical  necessity  ; while  men  who 
turn  their  thoughts  most  within,  perceive  the  will  operating  so  de- 
cisively upon  external  things,  that  at  length  they  imagine  it  to  be 
well-nigh  or  entirely  supreme.  The  sensationalist,  accordingly, 
will  ever  tend  to  the  doctrine  of  necessity,  since  the  idea  of  nature 
occupies  the  largest  share  in  his  philosophy ; the  idealist  will  just 
as  naturally  tend  to  that  of  free-will,  since  the  notion  of  self,  in 
this  case,  becomes  far  the  more  predominant.  A mere  glance  at 
the  history  of  philosophy  will  show  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten 
the  sensationalist  and  the  necessarian,  and  the  idealist  and  the  lib- 
ertarian, have  respectively  coincided  with  each  other.  We  look 
upon  both  these  classes  of  philosophers,  however,  so  long  as  in  their 
view  of  human  nature  they  fall  short  of  complete  fatalism  on  the 
one  hand,  and  subjective  idealism  on  the  other,  as  being  generically 
advocates  of  the  very  same  principles  of  voluntary  action ; the 
only  difference  lies  in  the  relative  share  of  influence  which  is  as- 
signed to  self  and  not-self  in  the  formation  of  our  character  and 
our  dispositions. 

The  truth  of  the  matter  may  be  stated  in  a very  few  words. 
Mind  is  essentially  an  active  principle  ; but,  without  reason,  its  ac- 
tivity would  be  blind  and  aimless,  following  the  impulses  which 
flow  in  upon  it  from  without.  In  proportion  as  reason  becomes 
stronger,  more  vast,  and  more  commanding,  just  in  that  proportion 
shall  we  find  it  regulating  and  directing  our  emotions.  But  our 
emotions  are  the  real  motives  which  excite  volition,  and  volition 
impels  to  action ; so  that  it  is  in  the  possession  of  reason  that  we 
discover  the  great  regulating  principle,  by  which  our  natural  ac- 
tivity is  either  restrained  or  directed,  and  by  which  we  are  enabled 
both  to  sketch  out  the  designs  of  our  life,  and  to  pursue  them  in 
spite  of  all  the  obstacles  which  may  stand  in  our  path. 

The  error,  then,  in  the  necessarian  school,  which  we  have  now' 
been  considering,  is  that  of  exaggerating  the  influence  of  circum- 
stances and  depressing  the  notion  of  mind,  as  an  independent  prin- 
ciple of  action.  In  proportion  as  this  is  the  case,  the  idea  of 
responsibility  becomes  weaker ; crime  is  regarded  rather  as  a dis- 
ease ; praise  and  blame  as  more  nearly  synonymous  with  felicita- 
tion and  pity ; and  man  becomes  a link  in  one  great  chain  of 
events,  by  which  the  purposes  of  Providence  will  at  length  be  un- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


293 


folded.  Some  of  the  authors  of  this  school  go  much  farther  in 
adopting  such  conclusions  than  others  ; and  more  commonly  than 
not,  the  shallowest  thinkers  carry  out  their  principle  to  the  furthest 
extent.  If  such  writers  as  the  author  of  “ The  Philosophy  of 
Necessity,”  instead  of  assuming  a tone  of  almost  amusing  defiance 
against  far  deeper  thinkers  than  themselves,  and  holding  up  their 
favorite  doctrine  to  view,  as  a remedy  for  all  the  ills  of  humanity, 
would  only  analyze  more  closely  the  subjects  on  which  they  write, 
and  in  place  of  making  new  discoveries  in  moral  science,  attempt 
to  comprehend  the  old ; we  should  hear  no  more  about  the  doctrine 
of  necessity  as  a practical  principle  in  morality,  than  we  hear  of 
it  in  connection  with  the  motives,  which  induce  men  to  plough 
their  fields,  to  pave  their  streets,  or  to  carry  on  their  merchandise. 

The  whole  of  the  utility  of  such  ethical  treatises,  if  there  be  any 
in  them,  is  derived  from  their  setting  forth  one  very  plain  precept, 
“ Mould  your  circumstances,  or  else  they  will  mould  you the 
bane  of  them  is,  that  men  easily  abuse  the  results  and,  under  the 
plea  of  necessity,  break  loose  from  all  idea  of  moral  obligation. 

Before  we  close  our  sketch  of  this  controversy,  we  must  just 
allude  to  the  extreme  form  in  which  the  necessarian  principle  has 
appeared  under  the  title  of  “ Socialism.”  This  is  the  most  extreme 
development  of  philosophical  necessity  which  the  present  age  has 
known,  and  cannot,  therefore,  be  altogether  passed  over ; although 
the  very  dogmatical  and  unscientific  character  in  which  it  has  been 
enunciated,  almost  deprives  it  of  any  title  to  the  name  of  philoso- 
phy. In  making  a few  observations  on  this  system,  we  shall  not 
enter  into  a deduction  of  its  consequences,  or  the  thousand  and 
one  anomalies  which  it  really  contains ; these  have  been  shown  in 
several  different  forms,  some  argumentative  and  some  declama- 
tory, by  many  controversial  writers.  Our  business  is  simply  with 
the  philosophy  on  which  the  system  is  grounded,  in  estimating 
which  we  must  go  to  the  axioms  which  are  placed  at  the  head. 
Let  us  look,  then,  at  the  “fundamental  facts”  upon  which  the  whole 
superstructure  rests. 

We  are  told,  first,  “ That  man  is  a compound  being,  whose  char- 
acter is  formed  of  his  constitution  or  organization  at  birth,  and  of 
the  effects  of  external  circumstances  upon  it  from  birth  to  death ; 
such  original  organization  and  external  influences  continually  act- 
ing and  reacting  each  upon  the  other.”  Now,  if  this  fact  means 
merely  to  assert  that  the  whole  of  the  influences  which  form  a 
man’s  character  consist  of  the  powers  and  faculties  which  he  has 


294 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


naturally,  and  the  circumstances  which  lead  to  their  development ; 
that  is,  in  other  words,  of  his  subjective  self,  and  of  objective  real- 
ity acting  upon  it ; then  it  simply  amounts  to  a truism  of  about 
the  same  description,  as  that  a whole  is  equal  to  its  parts.  What 
in  the  nature  of  things  can  there  be  in  the  case,  beyond  the  sub- 
jective and  the  objective,  and  their  mutual  relation  to  each  other  ? 
To  make  this  theory  of  any  use,  the  necessarian  must  show  that 
spontaneity  is  no  part  of  our  original  constitution.  Or,  if  it  mean 
to  assert,  secondly,  that  man  consists  merely  of  a bodily  organiza- 
tion at  birth,  which  is  moulded  by  the  influence  of  external  things 
afterwards,  then  it  coolly  begs  the  whole  question  of  materialism, 
sets  down  the  Hartleian  psychology  as  undeniable,  and  reasons 
from  them  both  as  if  axiomatically  true.  In  a word,  if  it  mean 
that,  because  man  has  a certain  mental  constitution  given  him,  and 
is  afterwards  exposed  to  circumstances  beyond  his  control,  there- 
fore he  is  entirely  the  subject  of  necessity,  it  takes  for  granted  all 
along  the  very  point  it  intends  to  prove,  namely,  that  in  his  pri- 
mary constitution  there  is  no  provision  made  for  his  free  agency. 
This  first  law,  therefore,  we  regard  as  absolutely  futile,  for  either 
it  says  nothing  at  all,  or  it  takes  everything  that  is  intended  to 
flow  from  it  for  granted  ; and  in  either  case  it  is  so  equivocal  in 
its  meaning,  as  to  be  totally  unfit  for  a primary  fact,  that  is  sup- 
posed to  be  something  incapable  of  misapprehension. 

The  second  of  these  fundamental  facts  is  as  follows  : — “ That 
man  is  compelled  by  his  original  constitution  to  receive  his  feel- 
ings and  his  convictions  independently  of  his  will.”  Now,  here  the 
same  error  is  committed  in  its  full  extent,  to  which  I have  before 
alluded — I mean,  the  error  of  supposing,  that,  because  our  belief 
follows  from  certain  data,  and  our  volitions  flow  from  certain 
emotions,  in  either  case  by  a uniform  law  of  our  nature,  therefore 
both  belief  and  volition  are  entirely  beyond  our  control.  Of 
course,  if  I have  two  legitimate  premises  of  a syllogism  given,  I 
am  necessitated  to  draw  the  conclusion  they  contain ; but  this  is 
far  from  proving,  that  I have  no  power  to  subvert  my  belief  in 
that  conclusion  by  other  means.  To  call  the  perception  of  se- 
quence in  an  argument,  as  Mr  Owen  does,  an  instinct,  is  nought 
but  a total  perversion  of  language ; and  as  to  its  bearing  upon  the 
doctrine  of  necessity,  properly  so  called,  it  illustrates  nothing 
whatever  heyond  the  regularity  of  this  law  of  our  mental  consti- 
tution. Just  on  the  same  principle,  is  it  equally  fallacious  to  infer, 
that  our  volitions  are  constrained,  because  they  come  and  go 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


295 


through  the  operation  of  certain  laws  relating  to  oui  active 
powers.  The  mental  affections  from  which  our  volitions  arise, 
we  must  remember,  are  placed  under  the  control  of  our  reason  and 
will,  and  to  call  them  instincts,  as  though  they  operated  blindly, 
in  the  same  manner  as  do  the  impulses  of  animals,  is  an  entire 
misapprehension  of  the  whole  philosophy  of  our  active  powers. 

Try  for  an  instant  how  phraseology  of  this  nature  (substituting 
the  word  instinct  for  conviction,  belief,  and  disposition)  would 
sound  in  ordinary  life.  I have  an  instinct  that  such  a road  leads 
to  the  village  A,  but  I go  and  explore  the  country,  and  finding  my- 
self wrong,  I have  now  another  instinct,  that  1 must  go  thither  by  a 
different  road.  My  instincts,  it  is  pleaded,  are  absolutely  neces- 
sary, and  therefore,  under  the  former  one,  I could  not  but  take  the 
wrong  road,  however  much  it  might  have  cost  me  or  injured  an- 
other to  do  so.  What  reply  would  such  an  excuse  justly  call  forth  ? 
Fool  that  you  were,  why  didn’t  you  inquire  the  way  ? For  what 
purpose  was  intelligence  and  activity  given  you,  but  to  direct  your 
course,  whether  it  be  in  small  matters  or  large  ? In  like  manner, 
what  would  be  thought  of  a man  who  pleaded  his  instinct,  when 
he  robbed  or  cheated  or  beat  his  fellow-creature  ? Call  such  pro- 
pensities dieases,  if  you  will ; they  are  diseases  such  as  every  sane 
man  has  the  means  of  guarding  against,  from  the  fact  of  his  possess- 
ing intellectual  powers,  moral  perceptions,  and  voluntary  activity  ; 
diseases,  therefore,  for  which  he  is  personally  responsible,  in  pro- 
portion to  his  light,  both  to  God  and  man.* 

Against  the  appeal  which  Mr  Owen  makes  to  our  consciousness, 
whether  evil  emotions  do  not  rise  within  us,  not  subject  to  the  con- 
trol of  the  will,  we  make  the  contrary  appeal,  whether  our  sus- 
ceptibility of  these  emotions  is  not  to  be  repressed  by  the  guidance 
of  our  reason  and  by  the  voice  of  our  conscience.  The  education 
of  our  moral  susceptibilities  is  analogous  to  the  formation  of  a me- 
chanical power  of  body ; as  the  facility,  for  example,  of  perform- 
ance on  a musical  instrument.  Such  facility  is  not  the  effort  of 
one  volition,  but  the  gradual  effect  of  a number  often  repeated 
under  the  direction  of  our  reason.  So  likewise  the  moulding  of 
our  affections,  emotions,  and  desires,  though  it  is  not  the  result  of 
a single  exertion  of  the  will,  is  effectually  accomplished  by  a series 
of  volitions,  all  adapted  to  that  end  by  an  active  and  overruling 

* The  demagogues  who  excuse  crime  by  the  plea  of  our  actions-  and  dispositions 
being  necessary,  seldom  consider  that  on  their  principles,  the  oppression  and  punish- 
ments of  which  they  complain  are  necessary  too.  The  fatalist  is  very  illogical  in  being 
a grumbler. 


296 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


intelligence.  I take  up  a new  instrument,  and  find  I cannot,  by 
any  direct  volition,  perform  upon  it ; but  do  I therefore  conclude 
that  performance  is  not  attainable  by  volition  at  all  ? So,  also,  I 
resist  a desire  or  propensity,  and  find  that  my  volition  is  not  strong 
enough  at  once  to  give  me  the  power  over  it,  which  I require ; but 
the  conclusion  which  some  draw  that  such  propensities  cannot  be 
influenced  by  volition  at  all,  is  equally  unsound,  as  would  be  that 
to  which  I have  just  alluded.  The  fallacy  of  arguing  that  because 
certain  affections  cannot  be  commanded  by  a single  volition,  there- 
fore they  cannot,  by  any  number  whatever,  is  that  known  in  logic 
under  the  name  of  “ fallacia  cornpositionis,’’  and  in  this  case  it  is 
very  easely  solved  by  an  appeal  to  the  facts  of  everyday  life. 

There  is  yet  another  absurdity  couched  under  the  loose  language 
of  this  second  “ fact,”  and  that  is  the  declaration,  that  man,  by  his 
original  constitution,  is  compelled  to  receive  his  feelings  and  con- 
victions independently  of  his  will,  whereas,  in  fact,  the  will  is  a part 
of  that  original  constitution  which  compels  him,  and  has  its  share 
with  the  rest  of  the  faculties  in  the  whole  process  by  which  the 
mind  is  enlightened  and  the  feelings  expanded.  This  second  fact, 
indeed,  when  analyzed,  has  just  about  the  same  nonentity  of  mean- 
ing in  it  as  the  other,  while  the  proof  of  it  is  based  upon  an  unpar- 
donable abuse  of  the  ordinary  language,  by  which  \ye  are  accus- 
tomed to  express  our  ideas  upon  metaphysical  subjects. 

The  third  fact  is  no  better,  namely,  “ That  our  feelings  or  con- 
victions, or  both  of  them  united,  create  the  motive  to  action  called 
the  will,  which  stimulates  him  to  act,  and  decides  his  actions.” 

To  speak  of  feelings  or  convictions  creating  the  will,  is  simply 
an  absurdity.  The  will  is  another  name  for  that  real  but  myste- 
rious power  of  mind,  which,  in  a moment,  can,  at  its  bidding,  emit 
an  energy,  that  leads  us  to  voluntary  action  or  endurance.  Feel- 
ing and  convictions  could  never  create  this  power,  although  it  is 
quite  true  that  they  may  influence  the  movements  of  it.  This  be- 
ing premised,  the  fallacious  conclusion  intended  to  be  drawn  from 
such  a representation,  becomes  manifest.  The  argument  implied 
in  it  is  this.  Our  feelings  and  convictions  create  the  will,  therefore 
the  will  which  is  a creation  of  their  own  cannot  possibly  have  had 
any  previous  influence  upon  them.  But  how  does  the  case  really 
stand  ? The  will  is  a mighty  energy  of  a nature  quite  its  own, 
which  restrains  or  impels  the  whole  man  at  its  behest;  created, 
moreover,  not  by  feelings  and  convictions,  but  by  the  Author  itself 
of  the  human  mind.  Our  feelings  and  convictions  act  upon  this 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


297 


power,  and  set  it  in  motion  ; but  then  it  at  once  reacts  upon  them, 
and,  guided  by  intelligence,  moulds  them  to  a vast  extent  at  its 
pleasure.  Take  a separate  volition,  and  it  is  quite  true  that  this 
is  determined  by  some  feeling  or  emotion  of  the  mind ; but  we 
must  be  cautious  not  to  confound  an  individual  volition  with  the 
will,  viewed  as  the  abiding  fact  or  principle  of  our  spontaneity. 
A single  volition  is  to  the  will,  as  a whole,  what  a single  wave  is  to 
the  ocean.  Because  the  wind  creates  every  wave  which  heaves 
upon  the  surface,  is  it  therefore  true  that  it  created  the  ocean  itself? 
And  so,  because  a feeling  or  a conviction  may  occasion  a separate 
volition,  is  it,  therefore,  true  that  it  originates  the  voluntary  power 
of  which  this  volition  is  but  a movement?  It  is  in  the  confound- 
ing of  these  that  the  source  of  the  error  we  are  exposing  is  to  be 
found,  an  error  which,  in  fact,  vitiates  the  whole  conclusion.  It  is 
not  true  that  our  feelings,  or  convictions,  or  both  united,  create  the 
will,  neither,  if  the  word  create  be  twisted  so  as  to  signify  only  so 
much  as  the  word  determine,  does  it  follow,  that  because  a single 
volition  is  determined  by  our  feelings,  therefore  the  will  taken  as  a 
whole  has  no  power  to  react  upon  them  ? 

The  fourth  fundamental  fact*  is  a remark  perfectly  true,  but  in 
any  other  system  besides  the  one  before  us,  would  be  regarded  as 
perfectly  useless,  because  it  is  always  taken  for  granted.  The  fifth 
factf  is  also  based  upon  a true  idea,  but  is  stated  in  such  a manner 
as  to  exaggerate  greatly  the  influence  of  circumstances  upon  the 
human  organization.  In  fine,  taken  as  a whole,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  find  any  system  of  philosophy  in  an  enlightened  age,  built  upon  a 
foundation  so  indefinite,  so  equivocal,  and  so- utterly  incapable  of 
sustaining  a superstructure  of  any  weight,  or  of  any  durability.! 

The  sentence  in  which  the  whole  point  of  the  system  is  acknowl- 
edged to  be  concentrated,  is,  “ that  tip  character  of  an  individual 
is  formed  for  him,  and  not  hy  him.”  But  in  no  sense  whatever 
can  this  sentiment  be  true,  except  we  regard  it  as  expressing  the 
obvious  fact,  that  none  of  our  faculties  are  self-created,  and  that, 
consequently,  whatever  mental  energy  we  have,  comes  originally 

* The  fact  runs  as  follo-ws  ; — 

That  the  organization  of  no  two  human  beings  is  ever  precisely  similar  at  birth, 
nor  can  art  subsequently  form  any  two  individuals  from  infancy  to  maturity  to  be  pre- 
cisely similar. 

f The  fifth  fact  is  this : — • 

That,  nevertheless,  the  constitution  of  every  infant,  except  in  case  of  organic  disease, 
is  capable  of  being  formed  into  a very  inferior  or  a very  superior  being,  according  to 
the  qualities  of  the  external  circumstances  allowed  to  influence  that  constitution  from 
birth. 

:j;  To  see  the  above  system  put  in  its  philosophical  form,  consult  “ The  New  Moral 
World,"  parts  i.  and  ii. 


298 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


from  an  extraneous  source  ; that  is,  from  the  hands  of  the  Creator 
liimself.  The  mental  constitution  of  a man  is  /n’mseZ/’,  as  distin- 
guished  from  every  one  else  ; so  that,  to  affirm  that  our  characters 
necessarily  arise  from  our  original  constitution,  as  acted  on  by  ex- 
ternal circumstances,  and  then  to  add  that  every  one’s  character  is 
formed  independently  of  himself,  is  a palpable  contradiction  in 
terms.  No  doubt  our  minds  themselves  were  formed /or  us  by  the 
infinite  power  from  which  they  emanated ; but  ever  since  their 
formation,  they  have  had  a great  share  in  the  development  of  our 
moral  dispositions,  a fact  which  Mr.  Owen  unwittingly  and  unin- 
tentionally grants,  when  he  speaks  of  the  original  constitution 
moulding  the  character. 

The  point,  no  doubt,  which  the  doctrine  of  the  new  moral  world 
intends  to  aim  at  is,  that  man  is  born  a passive  creature  with  cer- 
tain susceptibilities;  that  external  circumstances  acting  on  these 
susceptibilities,  of  necessity  give  rise  to  our  dispositions,  and 
through  them  form  our  whole  character.  The  view  thus  taken 
of  human  nature  is,  doubtless,  such  as  might  naturally  enough  be 
formed  by  a mind,  that  has  slender  reflective  powers,  a weak  sense 
of  the  sacredness  of  moral  distinctions,  little  reverence  for  religion, 
and  which,  in  addition  to  this,  has  been  accustomed  to  deal  with 
that  class  of  mankind,  which  exists  rather  as  the  appendages  and 
the  machinery  of  commercial  life,  than  with  those  who  are  inured 
to  habits  of  deep  meditation  or  of  moral  refinement.  The  primi- 
tive judgments,  the  fundamental  ideas,  the  original  moral  percep- 
tions, and  the  sense  of  responsibility,  which  are  among  the  very 
clearest  phenomena  to  the  reflective  mind,  are  here  all  lost  sight 
of,  while  man  is  reduced  simply  to  an  animal  of  somewhat  higher 
instincts  than  the  rest  of  the  animated  creation  around  him.  This, 
we  say,  is  the  meaning  of  the  system,  but  the  attempt  at  stating 
these  principles  scientifically,  and  the  aim  at  philosophizing  without 
any  sound  capacity  for  philosophy,  have  given  rise  to  so  much  that 
is  indistinct  and  paradoxical  in  language,  that,  were  not  the  con- 
sequences inferred  of  a serious  nature,  the  whole  matter  must  be 
regarded  as  a nonentity,  which  were  not  worth  the  “ pomp  and 
ceremony  of  an  argument.”  So  long  as  Mr.  Owen,  in  common 
with  the  rest  of  the  sensationalists,  performs  the  real  mission  of 
this  school  of  philosophy,  by  pointing  out  the  importance  of  attend- 
ing to  the  influence,  which  outward  things  exert  upon  the  mind  and 
character,  he  is  to  be  admired  and  applauded ; but  when  he  drives 
his  principles  to  an  extreme,  shaking  the  pillars  of  morals  and  re- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


299 


ligion,  and  involving  all  human  things  in  one  unalterable  chair,  of 
fixed  necessity,  he  presents  another  instance  to  be  added  to  the 
many  which  have  gone  before,  of  the  absurdities  into  which  those 
men  invariably  fall,  who  devote  their  whole  life  to  the  expansion 
of  one  idea  to  the  neglect  of  everything  else. 

In  concluding  these  remarks  upon  the  necessarian  controversy, 
we  shall  take  the  opportunity  which  is  here  offered  of  making  one 
or  two  observations  towards  elucidating  the  real  ground  of  human 
liberty.  The  great  stumbling-block  against  the  admission  of  this 
fundamental  truth,  is  the  principle  of  causality.  “ Every  phenome- 
non must  have  a cause ; volition  is  a phenomenon,  and  therefore 
must  be  caused such  is  the  position  in  which  necessarianism  in- 
trenches itself.  Now,  for  this  argument  to  be  good,  it  must  be 
shown,  that  the  principle  of  causality  applies  to  voluntary  agents 
in  the  same  sense  as  it  does  to  the  material  world,  and  that  a phe- 
nomenon in  the  one  case  is  under  the  same  conditions  as  a phe- 
nomenon in  the  other. 

It  is  here  that  the  prime  mistake  originates.  The  very  founda- 
tion of  the  difference  between  a being  possessing  a personality,  and 
everything  else  around  him  is,  that  he  holds  an  entirely  different 
relation  to  the  chain  of  causes  and  effects  by  which  the  phenomena 
of  the  material  world  are  linked  together.  By  a phenomenon  in  this 
latter  sense,  we  mean  something  which  begins  to  exist,  and  then 
terminates.  Suppose  I make  one  ball  strike  another  ; the  cause  of 
motion  in  the  second  ball  is  the  movement  of  the  first ; the  cause  of 
movement  in  the  first  is  the  impulse  given  to  it  by  ray  arm  ; the  cause 
of  that  impulse  is  the  action  of  the  nerves  which  convey  energy 
from  the  brain  ; and  the  cause  of  this  nervous  action  is  a volition. 
Here  the  movements  of  the  first  and  second  ball,  of  the  arm  and  the 
nerves,  as  well  as  the  volition  itself,  are  all  phenomena,  which  begin 
to  exist,  and  therefore  must  have  in  each  case  a particular  cause 
adequate  to  the  production  of  the  effect,  which  effect  accordingly 
must  necessarily  follow  when  the  cause  is  at  hand. 

But  now  we  have  to  ask  (for  this  is  the  main  point)  what  is  the 
cause  or  ground  of  the  volition  ? By  what  power  is  it  called  into 
being?  It  is  not  produced  by  an  argument,  or  an  inducement,  or  an 
objective  motive  of  any  kind : these  might  have  given  occasion  to 
the  volition,  but  none  of  them  could  really  impart  the  mysterious 
power  itself,  by  which  mind  sets  the  machinery  of  the  body  in  mo- 
tion, for  the  accomplishment  of  its  purposes.  The  ground  of  the 
volition  is  only  to  be  seen  in  the  fact  of  my  personality,  in  other 


300 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


words,  in  the  fact,  that  I am  the  subject  of  a spontaneity  of  .action 
entirely  distinct  from  any  quality  resident  in  the  material  world. 
Admit  that  some  inducement  gave  occasion  to  the  volition  ; yet 
still  the  very  fact  of  choosing  that  inducement  out  of  the  rest, 
implies  an  effort  of  will.  Now  this  fact  of  personality,  and  con- 
sequently, this  phenomenon  of  liberty,  is  one  of  whose  beginning 
we  know  nothing ; whose  cause,  independently  of  the  great  first 
cause  of  all  things,  we  are  totally  unable  to  trace.  It  is  an  ever 
abiding  reality,  to  which  the  term  phenomenon  is  applied  in  quite  a 
different  sense  from  what  it  is  to  other  objects  around  us  ; one, 
therefore,  to  which  the  principle  of  causality,  in  its  proper  sense, 
does  not  at  all  apply.  If  our  spontaneity  were  to  come  and  go, 
presenting  a succession  of  phenomena,  then  we  should  look  for  a 
cause,  by  which  each  of  the  parts  of  this  succession  were  severally 
produced ; but  as  it  is  one  abiding  fact  of  mind,  which  never  varies, 
we  can  no  more  inquire  for  the  imrticular  cause  of  its  spontaneous 
action  beyond  the  will  of  the  Creator,  than  we  can  for  the  particu- 
lar cause  of  the  great  abiding  fact  of  the  universe  itself.  That 
very  attribute  of  deity,  which  renders  God  himself  a spontaneous 
source  of  action,  was  communicated  by  the  Deity  to  man,  when 
he  made  him  intelligent,  responsible,  and  free. 

Instead,  then,  of  arguing  the  doctrine  of  liberty,  upon  the  arena 
of  our  separate  volitions,  which,  as  they  come  and  go,  are  subject 
to  the  law  of  causality,  we  must  remove  the  question  one  step  fur- 
ther back  to  the  idea  of  personality.  Volitions  are  not  free,  but 
man  is ; they  are  in  each  case  determined,  but  man  determines 
them ; they  each  arise  and  go  as  their  cause  impels,  but  that  cause 
itself,  which  is  grounded  on  the  very  notion  of  personality,  is  not  a 
phenomenon,  but  an  abiding  fact  of  mind — -fi'eedom. 

To  test  the  justice  of  these  conclusions  we  have  only  to  appeal 
to  the  facts  of  our  consciousness.  Do  we  mean  the  same  thing 
when  we  speak  of  a cause  and  when  we  speak  of  a motive  ? Do 
we  attach  the  same  certainty  and  uniformity  of  sequence  to  the 
one  as  we  do  to  the  other  ? And  if  we  feel  on  certain  occasions  a 
motive  to  be  for  a moment  irresistible,  are  we  not  conscious  of  a 
higher  power  within,  lying  behind  the  impulse  that  urges  us,  by 
which  the  motive  may  be  arrested  and  the  spell  of  its  influence 
finally  broken  ? This  power  is  no  other  than  that  of  spontaneity, 
the  attribute  and  distinctive  feature  of  every  being  that  possesses 
reason  and  personality. 

Consider  again  the  phenomena  of  intelligence,  of  design,  of  at- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


301 


tention.  Whence  is  it  that  we  can  form  purposes ; whence  that 
we  can  judge  between  plans  for  execution ; whence  that  we  can 
make  at  any  premeditated  time  a beginning  ; whence  that  we  can 
stop  in  our  course,  and  anon  proceed  ; whence  that  we  mould  al! 
the  circumstances  in  which  we  may  be  placed,  so  as  to  tend  to  the 
accomplishment  of  our  scheme  ? These  voluntary  actions,  it  is 
true,  may  spring  from  motives  ; but  motives,  we  again  repeat,  are 
states  of  mind,  in  the  production  of  which  self,  as  an  active  princi- 
ple, has  as  much,  and  often  more,  to  do  than  any  objective  realities. 
All  these  facts  point  to  a uniform  and  abiding  cause,  which  does 
not  take  its  stand  among  the  passing  phenomena  of  human  things, 
but  which  is  free  and  active  in  its  very  nature  ; open,  indeed,  to 
the  influence  of  inducements,  but  not  governed  by  them  ; cogni- 
zant of  the  power  of  motives,  but  having  no  cause  and  no  begin- 
ning, except  in  God.  To  the  argument,  then,  before  stated, 
“ Every  volition  must  have  a cause,  and  therefore  is  not  free,”  we 
may  reply,  “ Every  volition  has  a voluntary  cause,  and  therefore 
the  man  is  free.” 

The  question  as  to  the  possibility  of  free  agency  in  the  ci’eature 
co-existing  with  omniscience  in  the  Creator,  we  do  not  attempt  to 
moot.  The  problem  is  really  the  same  as  the  possibility  of  God’s 
creating  a responsible  and  intelligent  being  at  all,  a possibility, 
which  we  can  only  resolve  into  the  fact  of  the  Divine  omnipotence. 
God  willed  to  make  man  free,  and  accordingly  he  is  free  ; he  willed 
to  create  him  in  his  own  image,  and  did  not  therefore  pass  by  the 
most  distinctive  feature  which  that  image  presents.* 

The  long  discussion  into  which  the  doctrine  of  necessity  has  led 
us,  has  almost  caused  us  to  lose  sight  of  the  original  problem  with 
which  we  started,  namely,  to  determine  by  what  faculty  it  is,  that 
we  become  cognizant  of  moral  distinctions.  The  analysis,  how- 
ever, which  we  have  given  of  human  liberty,  has  gone  far  to  set- 
tle this  point  also.  Take  any  action  of  a voluntary  agent,  and  ask 

* I know  not  whether  anything  more  satisfactory  can  be  said  on  this  point,  than 
what  has  been  said  by  Archbishop  Whateley,  namely,  that  on  tliese  high  questions 
relating  to  Deity,  we  see  only  parts  of  great  truths,  and  not  enough  to  render  them  per- 
fectly consistent  to  our  understanding.  Much  confusion  too  would  be  prevented  if  tlie 
strictures  he  has  given  upon  the  ambiguity  of  the  term,  necessity,  v/ere  kept  in  view. 
The  efl’ect  of  such  a clearing  up  of  terms  is  always  to  bring  the  matter  in  hand  to  its 
plainest  statement,  and  show  the  real  basis  on  which  it  rests.  This,  in  fact,  the  Arch- 
bishop has  done,  by  appealing  on  behalf  of  freedom  to  the  moral  consciousness  of  man- 
kind. “ If  in  saying  ail  things  are  fixed  and  necessary,  they  [necessarians]  mean  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  voluntary  action,  we  may  appeal  from  the  verbal  quibbles, 
which  alone  afford  a seeming  support  to  such  a doctrine,  to  universal  consciousness; 
which  will  authorize  even  those,  who  have  never  entered  into  such  speculations  as  the 
foregoing,  to  decide  on  the  fabity  of  the  conclusion,  though  they  are  perplexed  with  the 
subtle  fallacies  of  the  argument,” — Bampton  Lecture,  Appendix,  p.  539. 


302 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


— why  is  it  a moral  action  ? First  of  all,  we  must  see  that  it  is 
not  a mere  forced  and  instinctive  movement,  but  that  it  really 
Hows  from  volition.  But,  next,  from  what  does  the  volition  flow  ? 
Clearly,  as  we  have  seen,  from  a mental  emotion  ; so  that  we  must 
now  look  to  tills,  as  including  in  it  the  moral  element.  But  lastly, 
whence  arises  the  emotion  ? Psychology  shows  us,  that  every 
emotion  springs  from  some  conception  of  our  reason.  In  reason, 
therefore,  we  have  thfe  primitive  and  essential  distinction  of  right 
and  wrong,  arising  upon  the  contemplation  of  human  actions  ; in 
emotion,  we  have  the  feeling  of  moral  approbation  and  disapproba- 
tion excited  by  this  conception  ; and  then  in  the  will  we  find  the 
effort,  which  carries  out  the  last  impulse  of  the  emotions  into  prac- 
tical operation.  If  one  of  these  three  elements  be  wanting,  the 
moral  nature  must  be  incomplete.  First,  we  must  have  the  con- 
ception of  right  and  wrong,  or  moral  intelligence  would  be  want- 
ing ; next,  we  must  have  the  feeling  or  impulse  arising  from  it,  or 
moral  disposition  would  be  wanting  ; and  lastly,  we  must  have  free- 
dom to  act  upon  right  or  wrong  motives,  or  else  responsibility 
would  be  wanting.  According  to  this,  conscience  or  the  moral 
nature  must  consist  in  the  combination  of  reason,  sensibility,  and 
will,  all  acting  together  upon  the  fundamental  conceptions  of  good 
and  evil ; while  the  perversion  of  conscience  must  consist  in  dim- 
ming our  moral  ideas,  in  blunting  our  moral  susceptibilities,  and 
in  weakening  the  power  of  the  will  over  the  whole  man.  How 
vastly  this  differs  from  the  sensational  view  of  our  moral  nature, 
which  makes  it  consist  in  calculating  for  pleasure,  it  is  needless  to 
explain. 

(C.)  Sensational  Physiologists. 

The  application  of  physiological  investigations  to  mental  science 
is,  comparatively  speaking,  of  recent  date.  A few  crude  specula- 
tions may  be  found  amongst  writers  of  an  earlier  period,  respecting 
animal  spirits  and  other  “ fictitious  entities”  of  a similar  nature  ; 
but  all  of  them  about  equally  visionary  and  ungrounded.  Hartley 
in  our  own  country  and  Bonnet  on  the  Continent,  appear  to  have 
been  the  first  who  employed  a sound  and  experimental  knowledge 
of  the  human  frame  to  discover  the  physical  conditions  of  sensa- 
tion or  intelligence  ; although  in  neither  case  did  very  marked  suc- 
cess result  from  their  efforts.*  But  within  the  last  twenty  years 

* Perhaps  we  ought  to  have  mentioned  Swedenborg,  as  one  wlio  in  the  eighteenth 
century  grounded  many  psychological  views  upon  his  extensive  researches  in  anatomy 
and  physiology. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


303 


the  science  of  physiology,  both  as  applied  to  man  and  to  the  infe- 
rior animals,  has  expanded  to  so  vast  an  extent,  and  the  multitude 
of  the  results  it  has  unfolded  is  so  great,  that  its  bearing  upon  in- 
tellectual philosophy  has  now  become  evident.  • To  offer  any  cor- 
rect analysis  of  these  results  is  not  within  the  limits  of  our  capa- 
city ; nor,  were  this  the  case,  would  it  comport  with  the  plan  we 
have  set  before  us,  of  never  leaving  the  track  of  speculative  philos- 
ophy. Speculative  philosophy,  however,  has  been  so  far  influenced 
and  benefited  by  these  investigations,  that  it  seems  imperative  upon 
us  to  point  out  specifically,  before  we  proceed  further,  what  the 
most  prominent  of  the  advantages  referred  to  really  are.  The 
main  points,  then,  in  which  physiology  has  aided  the  investigations 
of  the  metaphysician,  may  be  found,  perhaps,  included  in  the  fol- 
lowing particulars. 

1.  It  has  either  done  away  with,  or  prevented  the  existence  of 
many  false  theories,  which  are  generally  found  very  obstructive  to 
the  real  progress  of  truth.  The  phantasms  of  Aristotle,  the  an- 
imal spirits  of  Descartes,  the  vibrations  of  Hartley,  and  all  such 
speculations,  are  virtually  moved  out  of  the  road  by  a closer  ex- 
amination of  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  thus  prevented  from  en- 
cumbering the  movements  of  scientific  research.  In  opposition 
to  such  notions  it  has  been  discovered,  that  the  different  kinds  of 
nerves  have  specific  qualities  of  their  own,  and  that,  instead  of 
conveyvig  impressions,  they  give  rise  to  certain  phenomena  simply 
by  the  excitement  of  their  own  properties. 

2.  Physiology  has  marked  out  three  great  divisions  of  the 
nervous  system,  showing  the  I'eal  distinction  which  exists  between 
the  sympathetic,  the  sensitive,  and  the  motor  nerves,  and  the  act- 
ual difference  there  must  accordingly  be,  between  the  proximate 
principle  of  organic  life,  of  sensitive  existence,  and  of  voluntary 
action.*  Whatever,  therefore,  the  ultimate  principle  may  be  in 
which  all  these  phenomena  are  supposed  to  unite,  yet  physiology 
assuredly  puts  us  on  a right  track  when  it  indicates,  by  means  of 
such  discoveries,  the  propriety  of  investigating  the  distinctive 
features,  which  these  three  classes  of  phenomena  present. 

3.  Physiology  throws,  in  this  way,  considerable  light  upon  the 
emotions,  more  particularly  of  those  which  are  purely  pathological 
or  instinctive.  The  nerves  of  the  instinctive  emotions  have  been 
clearly  pointed  out,  and  their  centre  localized  in  the  ganglionic 

* See  a small  tract  on  the  “ Connection  between  Physiology  and  Intellectual  Phi- 
losophy.” By  John  Barlow.  Also  Carpenter’s  “ Human  Physiology,”  p.  239,  third 
edition. 


304 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


masses  which  lie  at  the  base  of  the  brain  ; thus  showing,  that  as 
tlieir  organ  is  distinct  from  the  cerebrum,  there  is  every  reason  to 
conclude  that  these  emotions  also  are  distinct  from,  and  may  operate 
independently  of  the  intellectual  functions,  which  are  traced  to  the 
cerebral  hemispheres.  A comparison,  moreover,  of  the  brain  of 
animals,  which,  for  the  most  part,  have  great  instinctive  powers 
and  little  intelligence,  throws  considerable  light  upon  this  portion 
of  our  constitution. 

4.  The  physiology  of  the  brain  presents  many  facts  respecting 
the  organic  conditions  of  thought,  which  illustrate  various  minor 
points  in  the  philosophy  of  the  human  mind.  As  a proof  of  this, 
we  may  refer  to  the  investigations  of  phrenology.  Without  giv- 
ing any  prejudication  respecting  the  truth  or  falsity  of  phrenology 
as  a whole,  yet  it  can  hardlj^  be  denied,  that  its  attempts  at  cer- 
ebral physiology  have  brought  to  light  many  facts  respecting  the 
action  of  different  divisions  of  the  brain  in  connection  with  tem- 
peraments, dispositions,  insanity,  and  mental  manifestation  gen- 
erally, to  which  intellectual  science  is  much  indebted. 

5.  A still  further  advantage  derived  from  physiology  is-  the 
power  it  affords  us  of  comparing  the  structure  of  the  brain  in 
different  animals,  with  their  various  habits,  and  of  placing  both  by 
the  side  of  the  cerebral  development  and  the  mental  manifesta- 
tions observable  in  man.  Although  it  will  assuredly  never  be 
possible  to  give  a whole  analysis  of  the  intellectual  and  emotional 
phenomena  of  the  human  mind,  grounded  upon  the  structure  of 
the  brain  and  the  nervous  system,  yet  there  can  be  no  doubt,  but 
that  many  of  the  peculiarities,  which  are  attached  to  those  phe- 
nomena, can  be  accounted  for,  and  explained  by  an  accurate 
knowledge  of  physical  processes,  and  that  much  error  is  counter- 
acted, when,  instead  of  raising  other  theories  to  account  for 
idiosyncrasies,  we  can  refer  them  to  their  proper  material  causes. 

In  preventing  then  numerous  errors,  in  giving  verifications  of 
certain  general  divisions  of  phenomena,  and  in  accounting  for 
many  otherwise  perplexing  facts  in  the  pathology  of  the  human 
mind,  we  conceive  physiology  has  been  of  considerable  use  to  the 
metaph}'^sician,  and  may  yet  unfold  additional  materials  to  aid  Ins 
investigations.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  of  great  importance  that  the 
two  sciences  should  each  hold  their  proper  limits,  and  that  the  one 
should  not  be  allowed  to  assume  the  ground  which  peculiarly  belongs 
to  the  other.  To  mark  the  boundaries  of  physiology  and  psychology 
we  must  simply  inquire, — what  are  the  phenomena  which  we  learn 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


305 


by  consciousness,  and  what  those  which  we  learn  by  outward  ob- 
servation ? These  two  regions  lie  entirely  without  each  other  ; so 
much  so,  that  there  is  not  a single  fact  known  by  consciousness 
which  we  could  ever  have  learned  by  observation,  and  not  a single 
fact  known  by  observation  of  which  we  are  ever  conscious.  A 
sensation,  for  example,  is  known  simply  by  consciousness ; the 
material  conditions  of  it,  as  seen  in  the  organ,  and  the  nervous 
system,  simply  by  observation.  No  one  could  ever  see  a sensation, 
or  be  conscious  of  the  organic  action  ; accordingly,  the  one  fact 
belongs  to  psychology,  the  other  to  physiology.  The  acutest 
search  of  the  physiologist  entirely  fails  to  discover  anything  at  all 
analogous  to  a thought  or  an  emotion,  which  are  simply  facts  of 
consciousness ; on  the  other  hand,  the  functions  of  life,  or  the 
material  affections  of  the  brain,  are  phenomena  of  actual  observa- 
tion of  which  we  are  never  conscious.  These  two  orders  of  facts 
draw  a broad  line  of  distinction  between  the  two  sciences  in 
question  ; and  it  is  only  in  those  particular  instances,  where  cer- 
tain phenomena  of  observation  are  found  uniformly  to  co-exist 
with  certain  phenomena  of  consciousness,  that  they  can  have  any 
direct  or  serviceable  bearing  upon  each  other.* 

Accordingly,  the  most  eminent  physiologists  of  our  country, 
more  especially  those  who  manifest  any  considerable  powers  of 
philosophical  thinking,  as  well  as  of  outward  observation,  have  ad- 
mitted fully  the  importance  of  analyzing  the  facts  of  consciousness 
reflectively;  while  they  have  been  content  with  confining  their 
own  peculiar  science  to  its  natural  limits.  The  researches  of  Dr. 
Prichard,  for  example,  upon  the  vital  principle,  clearly  tend  to 
show,  that  mind  exists  as  a distinct  entity ; that  its  connection 
with  the  nervous  system  is  confined  to  a few  simple  operations ; 
and  that  beyond  these  we  must  study  mental  science,  if  at  all, 
solely  by  the  aid  of  our  inward  consciousness.  Professor  Alison, 
again,  who  perhaps  more  than  any  other  writer  has  combined  the 
metaphysician  with  the  physiologist,  is  evidently  an  adherent  of 
the  more  modern  school  of  Scotch  philosophy,  and  would  probably 
go  throughout,  hand  in  hand  with  Brown,  as  a mental  analyst.  To 
these  I may  add  the  name  of  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter,  whose  works 

* On  the  distinction  between  the  sphere  of  observation  and  consciousness,  see  Jouf- 
froy’s  “ Melanges  Philosophiques,”  Art.  de  la  Psychologic.  Also  his  preface  to  the 
translation  of  Dugald  Stewart  in  the  Student’s  Cabinet  Library  of  Useful  Tracts,” 
vol.  vi.  We  may  remark,  however,  that  Jouffroy  carries  his  views  on  this  point  too 
far.  In  the  phenomena  of  muscular  action,  we  have  the  uniting  point  of  the  ,two 
sciences,  the  link  which  indissolubly  connects  the  science  of  mind  with  that  of  organic 
matter. 


20 


306 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


manifest  some  of  the  best  qualities  both  of  the  thinker  and  the  ob- 
server. Besides  the  opinions  which  may  be  discovered  in  his  vol- 
ume on  “ Human  Physiology,”*  it  may  be  permitted  me  to  add  the 
following  views  on  this  question,  which  have  been  derived  from  a 
personal  inquiry,  made  to  him  as  a physiologist : namely,  that 
peculiar  and  original  mental  qualities  really  exist ; that  these  are 
quite  distinct  from  any  properties  of  a physiological  character ; 
that,  when  acted  upon  by  their  appropriate  stimuli,  they  give  rise 
to  our  various  mental  and  moral  manifestations  ; and  that  psychol- 
ogy is  a science  which  must  progress  by  an  accurate  induction  of 
the  phenomena  of  mind,  as  we  see  it  around  us  in  its  different 
stages  of  development.  All  this  tends  to  elucidate  the  fact  we 
have  before  pointed  out,  that  while  physiology  may  cast  a light  in 
some  particular  points  upon  intellectual  philosophy,  yet  the  courses 
of  the  two  run  clear  of  each  other,  and  that  each  must  be  investi- 
gated on  its  own  grounds. 

Whilst,  however,  some  of  the  first  physiological  writers  have 
thus  wisely  avoided  the  shoals  of  sensationalism,  yet  it  cannot  be 
denied,  that  the  exclusive  pursuit  of  physiology  has  a great  ten- 
dency to  withdraw  the  mind  from  following  a reflective  philos- 
ophy, and  to  lead  it  to  indulge  in  what  is  merely  experimental. 
Amongst  those  who  have  manifested  this  tendency,  and  attempted 
to  investigate  the  facts  of  consciousness  by  the  aid  of  outward  ob- 
servation rather  than  by  inward  reflection,  we  may  distinguish  two 
classes,  viz.,  those  who  admit  the  independent  existence  of  mind 
and  those  who  do  not ; those  whom  we  may,  accordingly,  desig- 
nate as  non-materialists  and  those  belonging  to  the  school  of  ma- 
terialism. Our  future  remarks,  then,  upon  the  school  of  philos- 
ophers, whom  we  have  included  under  the  general  term  of  sensa- 
tional physiologists,  will  fall  under  these  two  heads. 

We  begin  with  the  non-materialists.  This  term,  it  is  right  to 
premise,  we  employ  in  preference  to  the  term  immaterialists,  be- 
cause it  not  only  includes  those  who  actually  oppose  materialism, 
but  likewise  all  those  who,  like  many  phrenologists,  decline  giving 
any  answer  to  the  question  respecting  the  essence  of  mind ; re- 
garding it  as  a useless  problem,  for  the  solution  of  which  we  have 
not  sufficient  data. 

Now,  first,  under  this  general  and  somewhat  indefinite  appella- 
tion of  non-materialist,  we  may  include  a valuable  class  of  authors, 
chiefly  of  the  medical  profession,  w'ho,  without  cultivating  any  re- 
* Hum.  Phys.  p.  3G6,  ei.  seq. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


S07 


markable  powers  of  mental  analysis,  yet  subject  the  habits  and  in- 
stincts o-f  man,  the  various  points  of  his  mental  constitution  which 
depend  upon  outward  observation,  and  the  relative  influences  of 
body  and  mind,  to  a close  and  often  a very  instructive  investiga- 
tion. They  look  upon  human  nature  sometimes  with  the  eye  of 
the  physiologist,  sometimes  of  the  natural  historian ; and,  while 
from  the  habit  of  outward  observation,  the  general  tone  of  their 
philosophy  flows  most  readily  in  the  sensational  channel,  yet  the 
results  of  their  thoughts  upon  man  in  his  various  relations,  are  not 
only  in  themselves  interesting,  but  often  furnish  materials,  which 
more  acute  metaphysical  analysts  might  employ  to  no  small  ad- 
vantage in  supporting  a spiritual  system.  Amongst  the  works 
which  have  emanated  from  these  sources,  we  shall  content  our- 
selves with  simply  mentioning  the  following,  all  of  which  have  ap- 
peared comparatwely  within  recent  times  : — Meryon’s  Physical 
and  Intellectual  Constitution  of  Man Renon’s  “ Delineations 
Physical,  Intellectual,  and  Moral two  interesting  works  written 
respectively  by  Drs.  Yarnold  and  Bushman,  On  the  Philosophy 
of  Reason  and  Instinct Newnham,  “ On  the  Reciprocal  Influ- 
ence of  Body  and  Mind,”  and  two  works  of  Dr.  Moore,  “ On  the 
Power  of  the  Soul  over  the  Body,”  and  “ The  Use  of  the  Body  in 
Relation  to  the  Mind.” 

Almost  the  only  professed  physiologist  of  eminence,  whom  we 
could  place  here,  is  Sir  C.  Bell.  That  he  is  neither  phrenologist 
nor  materialist  is  sufficiently  evident ; and  yet,  when  he  affirms 
that  “ all  our  ideas  originate  in  the  brain,  and  are  produced  by  the 
impression  made  on  the  extremities  of  the  nerves,”  his  philosophy 
appears  of  a strictly  sensational  character.  To  enter,  however, 
into  the  miscellaneous  philosophical  opinions,  which  are  to  be 
found  scattered  throughout  the  pages  of  the  above-mentioned 
works,  and  others  of  a similar  nature,  is  not  our  present  intention. 
Did  they  form  together  a distinct  school  of  philosophy,  they  would 
claim  a larger  space  in  its  history ; but  having  just  assigned  them 
the  position  they  may  be  regarded  as  holding  in  the  speculative 
philosophy  of  our  country,  we  must  recommend  our  readers,  who 
would  enter  into  the  minor  shades  of  their  opinions,  to  procure  the 
works  themselves,  promising  them  no  little  pleasure  and  profit  in 
the  perusal. 

Leaving,  then,  the  writers  of  these  miscellaneous  disquisitions, 
we  come  now  to  consider  by  far  the  most  prominent  of  all  the 
modern  systems  of  intellectual  science,  which  bear  upon  them  a 


308 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


physiological  character  ; I mean  that  which  is  known  under  the 
name  of  Phrenology.  This  system  we  rank  under  the  head  of 
non-materialism,  inasmuch  as  its  chief  and  most  able  advocates  in 
this  country  have  either  expressly  maintained  the  spirituality  of 
mind,  regarding  the  brain  merely  as  the  organ  of  its  manifestation, 
or  else  have  altogether  interdicted  the  question  of  spiritualism  and 
materialism  as  lying  beyond  the  powers  of  human  research.  Some, 
it  is  true,  affirm  that  phrenology  necessarily  involves  the  truth  of 
materialism  ; but,  without  giving  a judgment  upon  that  point,  we 
only  remark,  that  our  present  business  is  with  the  actual  facts  of 
our  national  philosophical  history,  and  that  we  must,  therefore, 
regard  such  writers  as  those  of  the  Phrenological  Journal,  not 
according  to  what  it  is  affirmed  by  some  they  ought  to  be,  but 
according  to  what  they  actually  are. 

In  estimating  the  truth  and  value  of  the  phrenological  system  as 
a whole,  there  are  two  distinct  questions  which  come  before  us. 
First,  whether  the  physiological  facts  upon  which  it  is  all  based 
are  correct  ? And  secondly,  whether,  if  they  be  correct,  they  are 
of  an)^  use  in  giving  us  a basis,  upon  which  the  superstructure  of 
an  intellectual  philosophy  can  be  erected  ? 

Under  the  first  inquiry,  we  seek  to  determine  such  points  as 
these — whether  the  brain  is  in  any  true  sense  the  organ  of  the 
mind’s  development ; whether  separate  portions  of  it  subserve  the 
manifestation  of  particular  feelings  or  faculties ; whether  the  as- 
signment of  those  portions  are  correctly  made  in  the  phrenologi- 
cal map  of  the  human  skull ; whether  the  power  of  mental  exertion 
is  in  exact  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  organ ; and  lastly,  whether 
we  can  judge  correctly  of  the  inward  cerebral  formation  from  the 
cranium  as  viewed  by  us  externally.  The  fundamental  evidence 
for  settling  points  of  this  nature  must  be  sought  in  a thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  the  physiology  of  the  brain  and  nervous  system ; 
and,  consequently,  the  first  physiologists  of  the  age  are  the  direct 
source  to  which  our  primai’y  appeal  should  be  made.  The  result  of 
this  appeal  is,  that  some  eminent  physiologists  appear  to  be  the 
advocates  of  phrenology,  while  many  others  of  the  highest  class,  so 
far  from  giving  in  their  adherence  to  it,  have  stated  some  very 
strong  objections,  which,  as  far  as  we  know,  have  never  heen  fully 
answered.*  To  determine  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  these  objec- 

* The  following  extract  is  from  Dr.  Carpenter’s  “ Human  Physiology,”  in  which 
the  real  difficulties  of  the  case  are  very  clearly  stated; — “ A fundamental  doubt  hangs 
over  every  determination  of  function,  which  results  from  a comparison  of  the  size  of 
the  supposed  organ  or  region  in  different  cases.  If  it  be  true  that  the  gray  matter  only 


SEKSATrorCA  [.ISM  IN  ENOL.-i-ND. 


309 


tions,  lies  entirely  in  the  hands  of  future  physiological  investiga- 
tors ; but  so  long  as  the  highest  authorities  are  disagreed,  it  is  folly 
to  dogmatize  upon  the  matter,  as  though  it  treated  of  nought  but 
ascertained  fact  in  the  natural  history  of  man.* 

is  the  source  of  power,  and  that  the  white  is  merely  a conductor,  we  have  no  right  to 
assume  that  the  total  size  of  the  organ  affords  a measure  of  its  power,  until  it  has  been 
shown  that  the  thickness  of  the  cortical  substance  can  be  judged  by  the  size  of  the 
brain,  or  of  any  part  of  it.  Certainly  there  is  a considerable  variation  in  this  respect 
among  different  individuals,  and  it  is  yet  to  be  proved  that  the  relation  is  constant  in 
different  parts  of  the  same  individual  brain.  Until  this  is  substantiated,  all  inferences 
drawn  from  correspondence  between  the  prominence  of  a certain  part  of  the  brain,  and 
the  intensity  of  a particular  function,  are  invalid  ; that  is,  if  the  general  doctrine  of  the 
relative  functions  of  gray  and  white  matter  be  true.  Further,  there  is,  unfortunately, 
a considerable  uncertainty  attending  all  phrenological  observations,  which  are  made 
upon  the  cranium  rather  than  upon  the  brain ; this  we  have  seen  from  the  discrepancy 
between  the  statements  of  Gall,  and  the  facts  ascertained  respecting  the  comparative 
weight  of  the  cerebellum  in  castrated  and  entire  horses.  It  appears  to  the  author,  too, 
that  comparative  anatomy  and  psychology  are  very  far  from  supporting  the  system, 
when  their  evidence  is  fairly  weighed.  It  is  a very  curious  circumstance,  that  the  dif- 
ference in  the  antero-posterior  diameter,  between  the  brain  of  man  and  that  of  the 
lower  mammalia,  principally  arises  from  the  shortness  of  the  posterior  lobes  in  the  latter, 
these  being  seldom  long  enough  to  cover  the  cerebellum.  Yet  it  is  in  these  posterior 
lobes  that  the  animal  propensities  are  regarded  by  phrenologists  as  having  their  seat. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  anterior  lobes  in  which  the  intellectual  faculties  are  considered 
as  residing,  bear  in  many  animals  a much  larger  proportion  to  the  whole  bulk  of  the 
brain,  than  they  do  in  man.  Again,  comparative  anatomy  and  experiment  alike 
sanction  the  conclusioij,  that  the  purely  instinctive  propensities  have  not  their  seat  in 
the  cerebrum.  These  examples,  and  many  similar  ones,  that  might  easily  be  added, 
collectively  show  the  uncertainty,  to  say  the  least,  of  the  inferences  that  are  by  many 
regarded  as  firmly  established. 

“ The  evidence  of  pathology,  again,  tends  to  show  that  particular  disorders  of  function 
ma3'  result  from  lesions  of  any  part  of  the  cerebral  hemisphere  ; this  has  been  espe- 
cially noticed,  for  example,  in  regard  to  the  loss  of  the  memory  of  words,  which  phre- 
nologists locate  in  the  organ  of  language ; there,  of  course,  the  lesion  might  be  expected 
on  their  system  to  present  itself;  but  this  is  by  no  means  constantly  or  even  generally 
the  case.  Phrenologists  lay  great  stress  on  the  effects  of  local  injury  in  causing  loss 
of  memory  of  a particular  subject;  but  this  principle,  if  carried  out  to  its  full  extent, 
would  require  us  to  regard  each  organ  as  split  up  into  a large  number  of  subdivisions  ; 
the  organ  of  language,  for  example,  having  one  storehouse  for  Latin,  another  for 
Greek,  &c.,  either  of  which  may  be  destroyed  without  the  other  being  affected.  A very 
important  source  of  evidence  is  that  afforded  by  the  correspondence  between  the 
several  kinds  of  monomania,  and  the  forms  of  the  brains  of  the  persons  exhibiting 
them  ; and  the  number  of  those  who,  having  studied  this  question,  have  given  in  their 
adhesion  to  the  phrenological  system,  is  one  of  the  most  weighty  evidences  of  its 
containing  much  truth.  The  doubts  which  have  been  expressed  on  the  subject  would 
have  much  less  weight  if  the  coincidence  of  phrenological  determinations  of  character 
with  truth  were  more  constant.  The  fairest  tests  of  these  are  to  be  found,  as  Dr.  Hol- 
land has  justly  remarked,  not  in  vague  and  ill-defined  moral  propensities,  but  in  a few 
simple  and  well-marked  faculties,  such  as  those  of  numerical  calculation,  language,  or 
music,  which  have  no  others  in  actual  opposition  to  them,  and  the  degree  of  perfection 
in  which  they  can  be  clearly  defined.  We  hear  much  from  phrenologists  as  to  their 
successful  application  of  these  tests,  but  we  do  not  hear  of  the  instances  of  failure. 
The  author’s  own  experience  of  their  determinations,  however,  has  certainly  led  him  to 
the  belief  that  failure  is  nearly  as  frequent  as  success.” 

* Since  the  publication  of  our  first  edition  we  are  happy  to  “ report  progress”  on  the 
subject  of  cerebral  physiology.  Mr.  Noble’s  recent  treatise  on  “ The  Brain  and  its 
Physiology,”  has  called  forth  a reconsideration  of  the  matter  from  Dr.  Carpenter,  the 
results  of  which  are  stated  partly  in  his  third  edition  of  the  “ Human  Physiology,”  (in 
loco  and  appendix,)  and  still  more  fully  in  Dr.  Forbes’  “ British  and  Foreign  Medical 
Review.”  His  principal  points  of  objection  against  the  phrenological  system, physiolog- 
ically considered,  a.ve  these: — 1.  That  it  does  not  cohere  with  the  results  of  compara- 
tive anatomy.  2.  That  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  facts  of  embriological  development. 
3.  That  it  has  entirely  failed  in  educing  the  functions  of  the  ganglionic  masses  at  the 


310 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


The  real  merit  of  phrenology  is,  that  it  has  directed  inquiry  to 
the  structure  of  the  brain  and  the  nervous  system,  and  succeeded 
in  drawing  forth  many  interesting  facts  which  otherwise  would 
have  been  to  this  time  enveloped  in  darkness.  Had  it  been  con- 
tent with  taking  its  place  as  one  peculiar  branch  of  human  physi- 
ology, it  would  have  appeared  in  a light  perfectly  unobjectionable 
to  the  most  rigidly  philosophical  minds ; but  its  ambition  has,  to  a 
great  extent,  been  its  bane.  To  a certain  degree,  however,  it  must 
still  be  admitted,  that  phrenology  in  the  physiological  department 
has  proved  successful.  It  has  elucidated  the  close  connection  ex- 
isting between  the  brain  as  a whole,  and  our  mental  manifesta- 
tions ; it  has  led  to  many  experiments  with  reference  to  the  effect 
of  cerebral  injury  or  distortion  upon  the  intellect  and  the  feelings ; 
it  has  educed  many  highly  curious  facts  as  to  the  organic  processes 
connected  with  the  development  of  the  emotions,  the  intellectual 
faculties,  and  the  propensities ; it  has,  in  a word,  thrown  a light 
upon  our  knowledge  generally  of  the  functions  of  the  encephalon, 
which  did  not  exist  before,  and  so  far  has  conferred  a benefit  upon 
the  science  of  man  which  it  were  uncandid  not  to  acknowledge. 
But  with  these  physiological  researches,  as  it  appears  to  us,  the 
whole  of  its  advantages  terminate. 

To  verify  this  opinion,  we  must  come  to  the  consideration  of 
the  other  question  we  have  stated,  whether  the  physiological  facts, 
allowing  them  to  be  correct,  can  serve  as  basis  for  a new  system 
of  intellectual  philosophy  ? Here  we  regard  phrenology  as  a total 
failure — a failure,  moreover,  which  might  have  been  predicted  in 
the  outset  with  unerring  certainty,  by  any  reflective  and  philosoph- 
ical mind.  The  reasons  on  which  this  conclusion  is  founded,  are 
of  the  following  description  : — 

1.  We  should  argue  it  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case.  A 
system  of  intellectual  philosophy  must  contain  an  analysis  and 
classification  both  of  our  faculties,  and  feelings  ; it  must  give  a 
complete  enumeration  of  the  elements  of  human  knowledge  ; and 
it  must  trace  them  all  to  their  real  origin.  The  idea  that  all  this 
can  be  accomplished  by  physiological  observations,  however  valid 

base  of  the  cerebrum,  in  which  Dr.  C.  is  inclined  to  allocate  all  the  emotions.  4.  That 
it  does  not  appropriate  all  the  cerebral  surface,  .h.  That  there  are  insuperable  obsta- 
cles against  the  possibility  of  determining  the  form  of  the  cerebrum  from  observations 
on  the  cranium.  Regarding  the  functions  of  the  cerebellum,  we  lliink  that  Dr.  C.  has 
completely  shaken  the  phrenological  doctrine.  Even  Dr.  Prideaux  (whom  we  regret 
to  find  writing  so  intemperately  in  the  Zoist,  and  thereby  somewhat  betraying  his 
discomfiture)  is  obliged  to  assign  some  new  functions  to  this  portion  of  the  encephalon. 
Anew,  therefore,  we  commit  the  subject  to  the  zeal  of  our  physiologists,  hoping  we  may 
soon  have  to  report  progress  again. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


311 


and  indubitable,  can  only  arise  from  a total  misunderstanding  of 
the  whole  question.  I will  suppose  for  a moment,  that  we  knew 
nothing  whatever  reflectively  of  our  own  mental  operations ; that 
the  study  of  the  human  mind  had  not  yet  been  commenced  ; that 
none  of  its  phenomena  had  been  classified  ; and  that  we  were  to 
begin  our  investigation  of  them  upon  the  phrenological  system, 
some  notion  of  which  had  been  previously  communicated  to  us  ; 
we  might  in  this  case  proceed  with  our  operations  with  the  great- 
est ardor,  and  examine  skull  after  skull  for  a century ; but  this 
would  not  give  us  the  least  notion  of  any  peculiar  mental  faculty, 
or  aid  us  in  the  smallest  degree  in  classifying  mental  phenomena. 
We  could  never  know  that  the  organs  of  the  reasoning  powers 
were  in  the  front,  and  those  of  the  moral  feelings  upon  the  top  of  the 
head,  unless  we  had  fii’st  made  those  powers  and  feelings  independ- 
ently the  objects  of  our  examination.  The  whole  march  of  phre- 
nology goes  upon  the  supposition,  that  there  is  a system  of  intel- 
lectual philosophy  already  in  the  mind,  and  its  whole  aim  is  to 
show,  where  the  seat,  materially  speaking,  of  the  faculties  we  have 
already  observed,  really  is  to  be  found.  Either  our  various  powers 
and  susceptibilities  are  known  and  classified  before  we  begin  any 
outward  observations,  or  they  are  not.  If  they  are  already  known 
and  classified,  then  phrenology  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  discov- 
ery ; if  they  are  not,  then  assuredly  we  can  never  find  them  out 
by  mere  external  observation  upon  the  skull ; we  can  never  turn 
them  up  to  view  by  the  scalpel  of  the  anatomist,  nor  find  them 
impressed  upon  the  outward  form  of  the  brain.  If  every  organ 
had  its  name  and  nature  inscribed  upon  it  by  the  Creator,  then  we 
should  have  a system  of  psychology  at  once  ; but  so  long  as  this  is 
not  the  case,  we  must  observe  and  classify  our  mental  phenomena 
by  reflection,  before  we  can  begin  to  map  out  the  locality  in  which 
they  are  to  be  found. 

Strictly  speaking,  phrenology  cannot  reveal  a single  intellectual 
fact,  which  was  not  equally  known  before ; it  cannot  trace  any 
points  of  human  knowledge  to  their  primary  elements  ; it  cannot 
perform  in  any  case  a single  analysis  of  our  complex  notions ; in  a 
word,  it  can  do  nothing,  allowing  its  facts  to  be  all  true,  but  point 
out  a certain  connection  between  two  parallel  series  of  mental  and 
physical  phenomena,  the  former  of  which  have  been  already  in- 
vestigated.* If  any  one  then  should  be  inclined  to  urge,  that  the 

* The  Phrenological  Journal  admits  that  we  must  know  our  mental  phenomena 
reflectively  before  we  can  allocate  them — but  still  persists  in  calling  cerebral  obser- 


312 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


very  circumstances  of  different  feelings  or  faculties  operating  in 
connection  with  certain  portions  of  the  brain,  is  a clue  to  a correct 
classification,  it  must  be  remembered  that  they  are  already  classified 
as  mental  facts  before  any  connection  with  the  brain  can  be  pred- 
icated of  them.  Leaving,  however,  this  fundamental  objection, 
^^e  go  on  to  point  out, 

2.  The  extreme  indefiniteness,  which  attaches  itself  to  all  phre- 
nological observation.  We  are  willing  to  allow,  that  the  general 
divisions  of  the  phrenological  system  are  correct.  The  researches 
of  Tiedemann,  quite  apart  from  phrenology,  and  of  others  who 
followed  in  his  footsteps,  have  abundantly  shown  that  there  is  a 
regular  progression  in  the  nerves  and  brain  of  all  animated  beings, 
from  the  most  imperfect  up  to  man  himself.  They  have  discov- 
ered, moreover,  that  the  human  brain,  in  its  gradual  formation, 
assumes  obscurely  at  different  periods  all  the  various  types  which 
are  found  in  the  animal  creation,  and  that,  consequently,  man’s 
organic  superiority  consists  of  superadditions  made  upon  that  which 
the  lower  genera  possess,  and  not  in  a total  dissimilarity  from  them. 
This  being  admitted,  the  phrenological  principle  naturally  follows, 
that  we  must  regard  those  parts  of  the  brain,  which  man  possesses 
in  common  with  animals,  as  the  organs  of  the  animal  propensities, 
and  those  parts  which  he  possesses  over  and  above  the  mere 
animal,  as  the  organs  of  our  superior  intelligence,  and  moral  feel- 
ings. But  admitting  all  this,  what  do  we  learn  from  it,  as  far  as 
intellectual  philosophy  goes,  beyond  what  was  equally  known  be- 
fore? We  did  not  require  any  phrenological  aid  to  convince  us, 
that  the  animal  passions,  the  moral  feelings,  and  the  intellect,  pre- 
sent three  different  classes  of  phenomena,  which  cannot  be  per- 
fectly resolved  into  each  other ; so  that,  in  the  main  divisions  of 


vation  a Tnethod  of  studying  psychology.  I confess  myself  unable  to  see  what  psycho- 
logical truth  it  unfolds,  that  is  not  equally  clear  without  it.  Does  it  reveal  a mental 
fact  1 Not  one.  These  are  all  facts  of  consciousness.  Does  it  give  us  a classification  1 
No.  “ We  must  know  (I  quote  the  critic)  from  our  consciousness  the  distinction 
between  thoughts  and  feelings,  before  we  can  trace  their  connection  with  particular 
parts  of  the  brain.”  Does  it  define  a single  faculty  or  feeling— or  give  us  any  clue  to 
the  class  of  phenomena  to  which  it  should  belong  ! No.  The  decision  as  to  the  class 
of  phenomena  to  which  any  mental  fact  belongs,  is  left  to  the  mind’s  reflective  judgment, 
which  would  be  quite  unaltered  wherever  the  organ  of  it  might  be  found.  We  are 
willing  to  place  the  whole  question  of  phrenology  upon  this  one  point.  Let  it  be  shown 
that  it  reveals  a single  fact  of  mind  we  knew  not  before — that  it  distinguishes  between 
any  two  or  more  faculties,  which  we  cannot  distinguish  by  our  consciousness— that 
any  one  could  disown  a mental  phenomenon,  because  he  finds  no  cerebral  organ  for  it, 
or  could  believe  he  has  another  unobserved,  because  he  finds  an  organ  unappropriated 
let  it  be  shown,  in  a word,  that  any  classification  of  our  consciousness  can  result  from 
it,  which  had  not  before  been  made  in  the  consciousness  itself,  and  we  will  admit  phre- 
nology to  be  a valid  psychology.  Until  then,  however,  we  can  see  nothing  in  it  but  a 
branch  of  human  physiology. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


313 


phrenology,  at  least,  we  have  no  fresh  assistance  given  us  in  clas- 
sifying purely  psychological  phenomena,  but  only  in  judging  of  the 
physical  processes  which  stand  in  connection  with  them. 

But  now,  if  we  descend  from  the  main  divisions  of  phrenology 
to  the  details  of  the  system  (from  which  alone  any  new  light  could 
originate  to  aid  our  classification,)  here  we  find  so  much  indefinite- 
ness, that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to  rely  upon  its  indications  as 
philosophically  correct.  When  we  attempt  to  classify  the  facts  of 
our  consciousness  by  reflection,  we  have  no  very  great  difficulty 
in  forming  a general  outline  of  them.  Sensation,  perception, 
memory,  judgment,  as  also  the  difi’erent  passions,  all  possess  certain 
indubitable  marks  by  which  they  are  distinguished  from  each 
other  ; but  when  we  come  to  consider  the  various  organs  which 
phrenology  assumes,  we  find  such  a complete  commingling  of  all 
the  simple  elements  of  our  mental  phenomena,  as  to  render  a close 
analysis  of  them  impossible.  Take,  for  example,  such  organs  as 
concentrativeness  or  adhesiveness,  and  say  what  peculiarity  they 
contain  which  can  have  an  independent  existence  subjectively,  or 
which  may  not  be  resolved  into  other  elements.  Patriotism — at- 
tachment to  friends — concentration  of  mind  upon  an  object — 
power  of  sustained  attention,  all  are  given  as  representing  the 
functions  of  these  peculiar  lobes.  Assuredly  there  does  not  appear 
to  be  much  psychological  light  aftbrded  by  such  an  analysis.  That 
I have  a will,  I admit ; that  my  will  governs  all  the  faculties,  and 
makes  them  attend,  is  also  evident  enough ; but  the  force  with 
which  my  will  operates,  is  determined  by  a variety  of  circum- 
stances. The  duration  or  pertinacity  of  any  mental  exertion,  must 
depend  chiefly  upon  the  motives  we  have  for  keeping  our  attention 
fixed  upon  the  object  before  us.  I may  have,  in  fact,  very  large 
and  very  small  concentrativeness  at  the  same  time,  just  according 
to  the  subject  on  which  I am  engaged,  and  the  interest  I feel  in  it ; 
that  is,  just  in  proportion  as  my  will  is  roused  to  effort.  Take, 
again,  the  organ  of  philo-progenitiveness,  and  say  why  there  should 
be  a natural  propensity  and  a particular  lobe  of  brain,  which  ex- 
cites love  to  a child,  and  none  by  which  we  are  induced  to  love  a 
parent,  a brother,  a wife,  a friend,  a sovereign,  or  anything  else, 
with  which  we  stand  in  close  relation.  Every  one  of  these  affec- 
tions has  an  element  of  similarity,  and  an  element  of  diversity  in 
it.  In  all,  it  is  love ; but  it  is  love  modified  by  varying  circum- 
stances ; the  analysis  of  which  in  each  case,  far  from  being  aided, 
is  greatly  hindered  by  the  phrenological  hypothesis.  Place  to- 


314 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


gether,  again,  comparison  and  ideality,  both  of  which  enter  so 
largely  into  the  poetical  temperament,  or  consider  the  elements  of 
mind  which  could  lead  us  to  manifest  order  or  locality,  and  we  find 
that,  instead  of  advancing  our  analysis  of  mental  phenomena,  these 
diflerent  organs  confuse  us  in  every  attempt  we  make  to  arrive  at 
simple  and  primary  elements.  To  attain  a perfect  psychology  two 
things  are  requisite.  1.  We  must  observe  accurately  the  great 
mass  of  complex  facts  which  the  human  mind  presents  ; and,  2. 
We  must  reduce  them  to  their  primitive  elements,  or  original  pro- 
cesses. Tlie  knowledge  of  our  complex  facts  depends  of  course 
upon  the  attention  we  pay  to  our  inward  phenomena.  Phrenology 
does  not  even  pretend  to  give  us  any  assistance  here ; it  is  alto- 
gether an  affair  of  consciousness.  The  main  question  is  as  to  the 
method,  by  which  the  multiplicity  of  complex  phenomena  passing 
through  the  consciousness,  is  to  be  analyzed  and  arranged.  Now 
the  only  proper  method  to  do  this  is  to  separate  the  matter  of  our 
mental  processes  from  form,  to  lay  aside  all  consideration  re- 
specting the  intensity  of  the  action,  or  the  diversity  of  object  to 
which  they  may  be  directed,  and  to  seize  simply  upon  the,  funda- 
mental character  which  they  severally  present.  Here  it  is  we  see 
that  phrenology  has  gone  completely  astray,  that  it  has  followed  a 
method  of  classification  altogether  fallacious,  and  that  it  has  given 
results  totally  worthless  in  a philosophical  point  of  view.  It  has  made 
its  classification  turn  mainly  upon  the  objects  of  our  mental  faculties, 
and  almost  entirely  neglected  their  fundamental  characteristics. 
On  the  one  hand,  it  assigns  different  organs  for  the  same  faculty  or 
feeling,  because  they  apply  to  different  objects  ; and  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  will  turn  a complex  operation  into  a simple  one,  and 
appropriate  to  it  a single  organ,  just  because  the  whole  process  is 
directed  to  one  particular  object.  Thus  memory  is  distributed  be- 
tween three  diflerent  organs,  according  as  it  applies  to  persons,  to 
places,  or  to  things ; love,  as  a propensity,  is  divided  into  two  or 
three  more  ; judgment  and  imagination  are  mutilated  in  the  same 
way.  In  brief,  the  form  of  our  mental  operations  is  utterly  lost  in 
the  contemplation  of  their  objects,  and  a classification  results, 
which  has  all  the  bad  qualities  which  can  possibly  attach  to  what 
is  termed  in  logic,  a cross  division.  But,  reiterates  the  phrenolo- 
gist, nobody  can  deny  that  these  separate  tendencies,  such  as  love 
to  wife,  love  to  children,  love  to  humanity,  really  exist,  and  that, 
therefore,  they  demand  a separate  allocation  in  our  mental  analy- 
sis. We  reply,  that  love  to  a hundred  other  things  really  exists. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


315 


and,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  ought  to  have  distinct  organs.  If  once 
the  principle  be  admitted,  that  we  may  overlook  the  form,  and  clas- 
sify according  to  the  matter  or  object  of  our  feelings  and  faculties, 
confusion  will  have  no  limit  and  no  termination.*  In  no  sense 
then  whatever,  as  it  appears  to  us,  does  phrenology  assist  in  form- 
ing a correct  classification  of  our  faculties  and  susceptibilities  ; it 
rather  throws  obstacles  in  the  way,  by  assuming  a large  number 
of  irreducible  elements,  between  many  of  which  it  is  impossible  to 
find  any  valid  fundamental  distinction,  when  due  allowance  has 
been  made  for  the  influence  of  habit  and  of  circumstances. 

Again,  great  indefiniteness  attaches  to  phrenological  observations, 
from  the  various  influences  that  disturb  the  fundamental  law,  upon 
which  the  whole  system  proceeds,  namely,  “ That  the  power  of 
any  mental  feeling  or  faculty  is  measured  directly  by  the  size  of 
the  organ.”  Now,  it  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  that  education 
greatly  alters  the  power  of  our  faculties  without  enlarging  the 
organ,  and  consequently,  it  must  throw  a disturbing  influence  into 
the  operation  of  the  law  above  stated,  which  in  a thousand  instan- 
ces will  render  it  nugatory.  Every  one  has  some  kind  of  educa- 
tion, and,  consequently,  it  is  certain  that  there  will  be  some  faculties 
in  all,  which  will  not  show  themselves  in  direct  proportion  to  the 
size  of  their  several  organs.  The  same  may  be  said  with  regard 
to  the  organs,  which  have  a diseased  action  ; in  which  case  it  is 
asserted  by  the  phrenologists,  that  there  may  be  prodigious  power 
without  any  corresponding  size  in  the  development.  This  being 
admitted,  it  is  clear  that  a peculiar  quality  or  state  of  brain  may 
give  rise  to  power,  as  well  as  its  size.  It  is  almost  proverbial, 
indeed,  that  stupid  people  have  large  heads  ; a peculiarity  which,  it 
must  be  granted,  is  often  seen  in  connection  with  a slow  phlegmatic 
temperament.  U ntil  we  have  some  means,  therefore,  of  knowing  the 
quality  of  a man’s  brain  as  well  as  the  quantity,  there  is  an  insu- 
perable obstacle  against  the  correctness  of  any  phrenological  con- 

* M.  Tissot  remarks  on  this  point — “ Without  enlarging  upon  the  determination, 
enumeration,  and  classification  of  the  faculties  as  given  by  the  phrenologists,  it  is  clear 
at  once,  that  those  adopted  by  them  are  by  no  means  intelligent ; that  they  have,  in 
fact,  all  th-3  logical  vices  of  which  they  are  susceptible.  Here  they  are  redundant, 
there  inadequate ; here  the  consequence,  however  remote  it  be,  is  put  upon  a level  with 
the  principle ; there  the  principle  is  forgotten,  and  the  consequence  announced  ; here 
again  the  consequence  is  detached  from  its  principle,  and  there  a little  further  on  it  is 
altogether  rejected  ; breaking  thus  the  whole  analogy,  both  of  the  facts  ana  ideas.  If 
instead  of  confining  our  view  to  the  nine  propensities,  we  were  to  examine  the  twenty 
or  thirty  faculties  which  the  phrenologists  distinguish,  what  should  we  find  then  1 We 
should  make  apparent  in  a thousand  phases  the  utter  chaos  of  this  apparent  arrantre- 
ment,  an  arrangement  more  worthy  of  haphazard,  than  of  serious  reflection.” — •,'fn- 
thropologie,  vol.  ii.  p.  217.  We  recommend  the  phrenologist  who  is  deeply  in  love  with 
his  meLhod,  to  study  M.  Tissot's  elaborate  critique  upon  it. 


316 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


elusions.  Taking  these  things  into  account,  we  doubt  whether 
tlie  slightest  aid  could  be  ever  aflbrded  by  phrenology  in  analyzing 
our  mental  phenomena ; nor  do  we  believe  that  a classification, 
grounded  upon  the  position  of  the  organs,  can  be  in  any  way  so 
satisfactory,  as  one  which  is  grounded  upon  an  accurate  observa- 
tion of  the  phenomena  themselves.* 

3.  With  regard  to  some  of  the  most  important  problems  of  met- 
aphysics and  morals,  phrenology  has  never  attempted  any  solution 
at  all. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  in  place  of  Dr.  Reid,  some  ardent 
phrenologist  had  set  himself  to  oppose  the  advancing  scepticism  of 
David  Hume.  How  would  he,  in  the  outset,  have  grappled  with 
the  ideal,  or,  as  we  would  rather  term  it,  the  representationalist 
system,  which  lay  at  the  base  of  the  whole  controversy  ? Once 
shake  man’s  confidence  in  the  reality  of  his  sense-perceptions,  and 
it  is  not,  neither  can  it  ever  be,  in  the  power  of  a philosophy,  which 
is  built  entirely  upon  external  observation,  to  venture  a single  reply 
to  any  of  the  objections  which  the  sceptic  may  have  to  offer.  If 
our  senses  themselves  deceive  us,  of  course  it  will  not  do  to  trust 
the  very  observations  upon  which  all  phrenology  is  based.  We 
strongly  suspect  that  in  such  a dilemma  the  phrenologist  would  be 
glad  to  take  refuge  in  the  citadel  of  common  sense,  or  some  such 
reflective  principle,  and  leave  his  developments  to  fight  an  easier 
battle. t Again,  what  can  phrenology  say  in  the  great  dispute 
respecting  cause  and  effect,  and  the  belief  we  derive  from  thence 
in  a great  first  cause,  the  Author  of  the  whole  creation  ? Against 
the  argument  of  Hume,  that  our  notion  of  cause,  and  our  confidence 
in  the  regularity  of  nature,  are  simply  the  results  of  association,  it 
has  nothing  to  bring  forward  except  the  fact,  that  we  have  an 
organ  of  causality,  upon  which  such  a belief  is  grounded.  But  to 
this  it  might  be  replied,  how  have  you  discovered  this  organ  of 
causality,  and  why  do  you  assign  such  a function  to  certain  of  the 
anterior  lobes  ? The  only  possible  answer  on  the  part  of  the  phre- 

* Vide  Appendix,  Note  B. 

t Nowhere  is  the  insufficiency  of  phrenology  as  the  basis  for  a philosophy  seen  more 
clearly  than  here.  All  the  most  important  principles  of  human  knowledge  have  to  be 
either  assumed,  or  borrowed  by  it  from  metaphysical  writers.  Nothing  is  clearer  than 
that  the  senses  alone  could  never  originate  knowledge,  were  there  not  a rational 
element  to  react  them.  Could  we  have  ever  known,  for  example,  anything  of  the  moon 
and  stars  by  the  senses  only  f — would  not  sensation  have  led  us  here  utterly  astray  from 
the  truth  1 Just  so  it  is  with  everything  else.  Mere  sensation  can  never  be  the  basis 
for  a philosophy;  and  yet  phrenology  either  sets  out  with  it  as  a sufficient  guide,  or 
takes  for  granted  the  whole  of  the  a prion  element,  which  alone  can  cause  it  to  result 
in  knowledge.  Phrenology  itself  most  be  grounded  in  fundamental  philosophy,  and 
cannot  therefore  be  a substitute  for  it. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


317 


nologist  is,  that  he  has  observed  the  idea  of  causality  really  to  exist 
in  the  human  mind,  and  assigned  it,  by  due  observation,  its  place 
upon  the  map  of  the  skull.  It  turns  out  after  all,  then,  that  we 
must  fall  back  upon  a purely  mental  analysis,  and  without  any  fur- 
ther evidence,  suppose  this  analysis  to  be  correct ; so  that  the  real 
argument  of  the  phrenologist  is  a complete  circle,  the  truth  of  the 
mental  analysis  verifying  the  organ,  and  the  organ,  in  its  turn,  ver- 
ifying the  truth  of  the  analysis.  In  all  this  there  is  really  not  one 
available  step  taken  in  analyzing  our  idea  of  causality  ; we  are  not 
an  inch  nearer  any  discovery  of  the  ground  upon  which  our  confi- 
dence in  a first  cause  reposes,  nor  can  our  belief  in  it  be  even,  to 
an  infinitesimal  degree,  more  clear  or  certain  than  what  it  becomes 
by  the  introspection  of  our  own  consciousness. 

It  is  useless  to  enumerate  particularly  the  other  problems,  which 
have  most  taxed  the  powers  of  the  metaphysical  analyst ; but  just 
in  the  same  manner  it  might  be  shown,  that  upon  the  question  of 
the  spirituality  of  the  mind ; upon  such  notions  as  those  of  time 
and  space ; upon  the  great  idea  of  infinity  with  all  that  it  involves  ; 
upon  the  personality  or  non-personality  of  the  human  reason ; upon 
the  absolute  or  relative  character  of  human  knowledge ; that,  in 
brief,  upon  all  such  fundamental  points  in  metaphysics,  phrenology 
sheds  not  a single  beam  to  aid  us  in  the  research.  The  only  thing 
it  attempts  is  to  ridicule  the  questions  themselves,  which  is  a 
method  of  treating  them  equally  easy  and  ignoble. 

If  we  turn  from  metaphysical  to  ethical  philosophy,  the  same 
aptitude  at  eschewing,  rather  than  solving  difficulties,  is  visible  in 
the  whole  proceeding  of  phrenology.  Upon  the  fimdamental 
question  of  human  liberty  (the  very  first  condition  on  which  the 
possibility  of  our  being  moral  and  accountable  creatures  rests), 
phrenology  has  nothing  whatever  to  advance.  It  neither  deter- 
mines how  far  we  are  free  agents,  nor  how  far  we  are  bound  down 
to  the  law  of  necessity,  but  leaves  the  whole  subject  standing  ex- 
actly where  it  was,  before  the  light  it  lays  claim  to  broke  in  upon 
the  world.  The  same  complaint  follows  us  if  we  consider  the  two 
great  problems  of  moral  philosophy : first,  what  is  conscience  ? 
and,  secondly,  what  is  virtue?  Conscience,  according  to  phre- 
nology, is  the  combined  action  of  benevolence,  veneration,  and 
conscientiousness.  But  on  what  ground,  we  ask,  is  morality  made 
to  depend  upon  the  approbation  of  these  three  organs  more  than 
on  any  other?  Are  not  all  the  organs  as  well  as  these  three 
equally  a part  of  our  nature  ? Why  may  not  the  approbation  of 


318 


MODERN  rniLOSOPHY. 


secretiveness,  acquisitiveness,  destructiveness,  or  of  self-esteem,  be 
as  good  a test  of  what  is  right  as  that  of  the  three  organs  just 
mentioned  ? Or  on  what  principle,  if  any,  is  their  especial  superi- 
ority maintained  ? The  only  reply  we  have  to  such  questions  is, 
that  these  emotions  are  fell  to  have  a commanding  authority  con- 
feri'ed  on  them,  and  that  we  can  give  no  other  account  of  the  order 
of  our  nature,  except  that  it  has  pleased  God  so  to  constitute  us. 
After  all  the  boast,  then,  about  organs,  as  affording  a clear  founda- 
tion on  which  to  erect  a system  of  moral  philosophy,  it  appears 
that  we  must  still  have  recourse  to  our  inward  consciousness,  in 
order  to  tell  us  which  organs  possess  a moral  authority,  and  which 
do  not.  The  very  point  of  the  difficulty,  therefore,  is  here  un- 
touched. We  are  simply  told,  cozrsult  your  consciousness,  and 
you  will  find  what  is  right  or  wrong, — a maxim  which  was  often 
enjoined  long  before  phrenology  dawned  upon  mankind.  With 
regard  to  the  other  question,  what  is  virtue  ? the  case  is  veiy  sim- 
ilar w'ith  the  last.  The  whole  difficulty  of  the  matter  is  evaded  by 
saying  that  the  ground  of  morals  is  neither  utility,  nor  the  will  of 
God,  nor  the  approbation  of  conscience  alone,  but  all  these  con- 
joined ; so  that  all  the  benefit  which  phrenology  confei’s  upon  us 
in  this  dispute  is  to  patch  the  other  theories  together,  and  make 
a composite  one  infinitely  more  untenable  than  any  of  the  other 
three.* 

We  repeat,  therefore,  in  conclusion,  what  we  have  already  urged, 
that  phrenology  ought  to  have  taken  its  place  as  one  branch  of 
physiological  investigation  ; that,  viewed  in  such  a character,  it 
has  succeeded  in  educing  many  interesting  and  valuable  facts  re- 
specting the  material  changes  which  accompany  the  exercise  of 
thought  and  feeling;  but  that,  in  attempting  to  take  its  stand  as  a 
system  of  intellectual  philosophy,  it  has  entirely  mistaken  its  proper 
place,  and  totally  failed  in  throwing  any  light  whatever  upon  moral 
or  metaphysical  researches. 

Here,  then,  we  shall  close  our  observations  upon  tbe  non-mate- 
rialist class  of  sensational  physiologists,  and  proceed  to  consider 
that  complete  development  of  sensationalism  which  has  been  ex- 
hibited to  the  present  age  in  the  writings  of  professed  materi- 
alists. 

To  clear  the  way  for  this,  we  shall  just  take  a glance  at  the 
history  of  materialism  in  England  after  the  time  of  Hobbes,  and 

* These  explanations  of  ethical  questions  on  the  principles  of  phrenology  are  taken 
from  Combe’s  “ Moral  Philosophy.” 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


319 


attempt  to  discover,  in  this  way,  the  different  phases  it  has  assumed. 
In  1665,  a treatise  was  published  in  London,  under  the  signature 
of  R.  O.,  in  which  the  doctrine  of  materialism,  and  man’s  natural 
mortality,  was  sustained  on  the  ground  more  especially  of  certain 
theological  opinions  which  the  a^ithor  had  adopted.  At  the’com- 
mencement  of  the  eighteenth  century,  Zachary  Housel,  one  of  the 
French  refugees,  published  a defence  of  materialism  in  a kind  of 
colloquial  form,  for  which  he  was  prosecuted  and  tried  at  the  Old 
Bailey.  About  the  same  time  some  tracts  were  published  by  Henry 
Layton,  a barrister-at-law,  in  which  the  natural  mortality  and  ho- 
mogeneity of  man  were  argued  with  great  acuteness.  A similar 
attempt  was  made  by  Dr.  Coward,  who  published,  in  1702,  a work 
(which  was  condemned  and  burnt)  entitled,  Second  thoughts 
concerning  Human  Soul,  demonstrating  the  notion  of  Human 
Soul,  as  believed  to  be  a Spiritual  and  Immaterial  Substance,  united 
to  Human  Body,  to  be  an  Invention  of  Heathens,  and  not  conso- 
nant to  the  Principles  of  Philosophy,  Reason,  or  Religion.”  In 
1757,  another  physician.  Dr.  Robinson,  published  a treatise  pre- 
cisely of  a similar  nature,  which  thus  completes  a list  of  five  au- 
thors between  Hobbes  and  Priestley,  who  supported  materialism 
chiefly  upon  theological  grounds. 

Priestley  revived  the  philosophical  materialism  of  Hobbes,  sup- 
posing, in  common  with  that  author,  that  our  very  ideas  are  mate- 
rial essences;  while  Darwin  went  forward  with  the  superstructure, 
until  he  laid  upon  it  the  top  stone,  an  account  of  which  we  have 
already  furnished  in  the  second  chapter  of  this  work.  From  that 
time  almost  to  the  present  hour,  iiothing  of  any  importance  has  ap- 
peared either  on  the  part  of  theological  or  philosophical  material- 
ism. A few  experiments  like  those  of  Darwin  have  been  made 
occasionally  by  naturalists,  and  here  and  thei’e  a second-rate  writer 
of  the  theological  school  has  appeared,  who  has  follow'ed  in  the  foot- 
steps of  the  five  above  mentioned ; but,  upon  the  whole,  we  may 
consider  the  controversy  to  have  rested  virtually  in  one  and  the 
same  position  since  the  reply  of  Brown  to  Darwin’s  “ Zoonomia.” 
In  the  meantime,  phrenology  has  prepared  the  w’ay  for  another 
phase  of  materialism,  which  now  manifests  itself  through  the  writ- 
ings of  Drs.  Elliotson  and  Engledue,  and  in  its  connection  with 
mesmerism,  is  regularly  advocated  in  the  pages  of  the  “ Zoist.” 

The  principles  of  this  school  of  cerebral  physiology  are  very 
clear  and  very  simple.  According  to  their  view,  the  sole  object  of 
human  research  is  matter ; the  term  mind  is  a mere  fiction,  under 


320 


MODERN  PHILOSOrilY. 


whicli  we  hide  our  ignorance  of  certain  recondite  physical  opera- 
tions ; to  speak  intelligibly,  the  only  mind  which  man  possesses  is 
the  brain  ; thought  is  nothing  more  than  cerebration  ; and  the  highest 
qualities,  both  of  the  intellectual  and  the  moral  feelings,  nothing  but 
the  direct  result  of  a superior  organization.  These  results  are  sus- 
tained by  a,n  abundant  appeal  to  our  ignorance  of  any  spiritual 
principle ; by  a reference  to  the  progressive  development  of  the 
nerves  and  brain  in  the  different  gradations  of  animal  life ; and, 
lastly,  by  the  startling  facts  which  are  presented  upon  the  subject 
of  animal  magnetism.* 

The  three  phases  of  materialism,  then,  which  modern  times 
present,  are,  according  to  the  above  statements — 1,  that  of  the 
theologian  ; 2,  that  of  the  naturalist ; 3,  that  of  the  cerebral  physi- 
ologist. Into  the  theological  argument  it  is  not  our  place  to  enter, 
since  it  rests  upon  scriptural  rather  than  philosophical  grounds. 
With  regard,  however,  to  the  philosophical  phases  of  materialism, 
there  are  a few  considerations  we  have  to  present,  which  may 
place  the  question,  at  least  to  some  minds,  in  a clearer  position 
than  that  in  which  they  have  been  accustomed  to  view  it.  These 
considerations  refer  to  two  points  ; first,  to  the  method  of  phil- 
osophical research ; and,  secondly,  to  the  results.  Both  the 
naturalist  and  the  phrenologist,  in  so  far  as  they  uphold  the  doc- 
trines of  materialism,  appear  to  us  to  be  involved  in  much  confu- 
sion, as  it  regards  each  of  these  points  of  inquiry.  The  whole  dis- 
cussion may  perhaps  be  reduced  to  these  two  fundamental  ques- 
tions— 1st,  Whether  intellectual  science  must  be  confined  to  the 
observation  and  classification  of  outward  facts,  or  whether  it  must 
not  ultimately  rest  upon  the  ground  of  our  inward  consciousness ; 
and,  2dly,  Whether  there  is  really  any  evidence  for  holding  the 
spirituality  of  mind,  or  whether  matter  must  be  regarded  as  the 
ultimate  principle  of  thought  and  feeling.  Whatever  facts  of  a 
material  nature  may  be  evolved  by  physiological  research,  still 
these  two  problems  will  equally  remain  to  be  discussed  upon  purely 
metaphysical  grounds. 

And  first,  with  regard  to  the  method  of  philosophical  investiga- 
tion, materialists  frequently  argue  in  the  following  manner  : — The 
human  mind,  whatever  its  essence,  is  originally  a blank ; by  its 
contact  with  the  outer  world,  it  gains  sensations  and  ideas.  All 
knowledge,  accordingly,  comes  through  the  senses — is  the  result 

* For  a clear  statement  of  this  system  of  materialism,  see  Dr.  Engledue’s  lecture  be- 
fore the  Phrenological  Society  of  London.  (Balliire.) 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


321 


of  organic  changes ; and  consequently  all  intellectual  philosophy 
must  be  the  result  of  observation  and  experiment.  To  study  man^ 
as  well  as  anything  else  aright,  we  must  simply  observe  the  facts 
connected  with  the  nervous  system  which  present  themselves  to 
us  by  means  of  our  sense-perceptions  ; all  reasoning,  therefore, 
upon  inward  consciousness  in  the  philosophy  of  man,  is  to  be  given 
up,  as  being  productive  of  nought  but  uncertainty  and  confusion ; 
and  intellectual  science,  if  its  facts  fall  not  under  the  observation 
of  the  senses,  is  to  be  regarded  as  a mere  imaginary  province,  ly- 
ing quite  beyond  the  true  region  of  human  knowledge.* 

Now  admitting,  for  a moment,  that  all  our  knowledge  is  gained 
by  means  of  observations  made  upon  external  phenomena,  how  is 
it,  we  would  ask,  that  our  observations  are  to  be  classified,  arran- 
ged, and  formed  into  those  general  principles  of  which  knowledge, 
properly  so  called,  alone  consists.  Isolated  facts  will  never  raise 
up  a superstructure  of  valid  science,  unless  they  are  linked  together 
by  some  fundamental  conception  ; neither  will  the  observation  of 
such  facts,  in  any  sense,  bear  the  name  of  philosophy,  unless  they 
are  pursued  with  a definite  aim  before  us,  and  all  made  to  tell  upon 
the  elimination  of  certain  general  truths.  Sensationalists  of  the 
extreme  school  are  apt  to  forget  that  there  is  a logic  of  induction 
as  well  as  deduction,  having  rational  axioms  at  its  foundation ; and 
that  without  these  axioms,  or  at  any  rate  without  the  truths  which 
they  embody  being  in  the  mind,  the  outward  observation  whereon 
they  so  firmly  rely  would  be  altogether  nugatory.  When  the  as- 
tronomer, for  example,  describes  the  eclipses  which  are  to  take 
place  within  the  next  year,  upon  what  does  he  ground  the  certainty 
of  his  observation  ? Not  upon  experience,  foi'  that  can  only  refer 
to  the  past ; not  upon  mathematical  reasoning  only,  for  that  has  to 
do  simply  with  abstract  and  necessary  relations.  He  grounds  it 
upon  the  confidence  he  feels  in  the  regularity  of  the  laws  of  na- 
ture ; a confidence  which  arises  from  the  constitution  of  our  own 
minds,  and  is  verified  as  a philosophical  fact  only  by  reflection 
upon  our  inward  consciousness. f 

Again,  on  what  principle  does  the  materialist  himself  investigate 
the  phenomena  of  organization,  which  he  would  fain  substitute  for 
those  of  our  consciousness  ? Does  he  really  do  nothing  but  ob- 
serve facts  ? And,  if  he  were  confined  to  this,  could  he  ever  boast 
a single  scientific  result  ? No  ; so  far  from  that,  the  moment  he 

* This  was  virtually  the  principle  of  Hartley  and  Bonnet,  and  professedly  the  princi- 
ple of  Cabanis,  together  with  the  French  and  English  school  of  materialism. 

t See  our  remarks  upon  this  point  in  the  section  on  David  Hume. 

21 


322  • 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


commences,  as  a physiologist,  to  investigate  the  functions  of  the 
animal  frame,  he  shows  that  he  is  acting  upon  an  a priori,  princi- 
ple, a principle  not  derived  from  observation,  but  one  upon  which, 
in  fact,  the  validity  of  all  observation  rests.  There  is  a conviction 
in  his  mind  prior  to  all  actual  research,  that  every  organ  which 
may  be  laid  bare  by  the  scalpel,  performs  a certain  function,  and 
has  a final  cause.  Were  the  anatomist,  neglecting  this,  merely  to 
record  what  he  sees,  and  to  put  down  facts  in  their  isolation,  phys- 
iology as  a science  could  never  exist.  The  bond  which  unites  his 
facts  into  a veritable  branch  of  science,  are  certain  fundamental 
axioms,  whose  office  is  to  show  the  causal  connection,  which  those 
facts  have  with  each  other.  To  admit  such  a connection,  the 
physiologist  has  no  scruple ; it  forms,  indeed,  the  very  method  of 
and  incentive  to  his  labor ; and  yet,  while  he  is  pressing  forward 
without  a doubt  as  to  his  plan,  he  appears  often  quite  blinded  to 
the  fact,  that  he  is  acting  upon  a purely  a priori  principle,  which 
nothing  but  consciousness  could  ever  reveal,  and  the  truth  of 
which  can  only  flow  from  the  validity  of  the  subjective  laws  of 
our  nature.  There  is  neither  an  organ  nor  a function  which  he 
observes,  respecting  which  he  does  not  profess  a certainty,  that  it 
has  a cause  and  an  end,  even  though  both  should  be  completely 
• unknown ; and  upon  this  conviction  he  does  not  hesitate  to  pro- 
ceed onwards  in  his  research  until  they  shall  both  be  discovered. 

“The  improvement  of  physiology,”  remarks  Dugald  Stewart,  in 
some  observations  upon  Cuvier’s  researches,  “is  to  be  expected 
chiefly  from  the  lights  furnished  by  analogy ; but  in  order  to  fol- 
low this  guide  with  safety,  a cautious  and  refined  logic  is  still  more 
necessary  than  in  conducting  those  reasonings  which  rest  on  the 
direct  evidence  of  experience.”  And  again,  M.  Jouffroy  beauti- 
fully remarks,  in  his  Preface  to  Stewart’s  Moral  Philosophy  :* 
“ Nature  is  a drama  of  which  reason  only  teaches  the  plot.  To 
the  eye  of  sense  the  world  of  phenomena  is  merely  an  ever-vary- 
ing collection  of  isolated  facts ; a spectacle  which  has  no  signifi- 
cance. Its  mystery  is  unfolded  to  us  by  reason  alone,  which  re- 
veals in  every  phenomenon  the  consequence  and  the  principle  of 
another ; and  in  the  aggregate  of  all  phenomena,  an  immense 
chain  of  causes  and  effects,  of  which  universal  order  is  the  admi- 
rable result.  And  such  is  the  simplicity  of  this  revelation,  that  it 
is  entirely  comprised  in  the  conception  of  the  absolute  law  of 

* See  the  “ Students’  Cabinet  Library,”  vol.  vi.  p.  47,  in  which  the  whole  subject 
of  psychological  research  is  admirably  treated. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


323 


every  phenomenon ; a conception  apparently  trivial,  but,  in  fact, 
most  fruitful  and  sublime.  This  conception  is  the  fundamental 
axiom  in  all  the  sciences  of  facts,  the  torch  which  guides  their  re- 
searches, and  the  soul  which  animates  their  method  ; the  proce- 
dure of  the  physiologists  in  the  study  of  the  phenomena  of  life,  is 
derived  from  it  as  a natural  consequence.”* 

Let  the  ardent  advocate  of  mere  objective  knowledge,  then, 
consider,  that,  however  extensively  he  may  build  his  conclusions 
upon  outward  facts,  yet  there  are  subjective  principles,  upon  which 
he  must  necessarily  proceed,  on  which  the  whole  superstructure 
of  his  scientific  research,  whatever  branch  it  be,  must  be  erected, 
and  without  which  his  knowledge  would  be  all  disjointed,  and  his 
real  progress  impossible.  However  eagerly  the  mind  may  go  forth 
for  a time  to  grasp  the  varied  forms  of  nature,  yet  there  will,  as- 
suredly, arrive  a period  when  the  objective  movement  will  have 
run  its  length,  when  the  soul’s  centripetal  force  will  begin  to  react, 
when  the  great  subjective  movements  in  which  the  whole  of  man’s 
activity  originates  will  come  forth  to  light,  and  when  intellectual 
philosophy  will  resume  the  position,  from  which  it  has  been  ejected. 

The  attempt  of  the  naturalist  to  account  for  the  phenomena  of 
thought  and  feeling  by  outward  observation,  is  much  on  an  equal- 
ity with  that  of  the  phrenologist  to  localize  the  faculties,  by  merely 
observing  certain  visible  developments.  In  the  latter  case  we 
showed,  that  the  very  classification  aimed  at  was  supposed  to  be 
already  made,  and  that  we  must  have  observed  the  various  facul- 
ties in  all  their  peculiarity  before  any  local  position  could  possibly 
be  assigned  them.  In  the  ’ same  manner  must  there  be  to  the 
physiologist  a firm  conviction  and  a clear  conception  of  all  our 
various  mental  operations,  before  the  very  notion  of  finding  their 
physical  causes  could  be  entertained. 

In  brief,  the  result  of  these  considerations  is  this  : — There  are 
two  classes  of  facts  equally  certain  and  equally  clear,  those,  namely, 
of  outward  observation,  and  of  inward  consciousness,  which  can 
never  be  resolved  into  each  other,  but  which  must  both  form  the 
materials  of  true  philosophical  research.  If  we  take  the  external 
world  alone  as  our  starting-point,  we  can  never  deduce  from  it  the 
phenomena  of  mind,  i.  e.,  we  can  never  succeed  in  showing  how 
the  properties  of  matter  can  be  possibly  compatible  with,  or  lead  to, 
thought,  feeling,  and  reasoning : and,  on  the  contray,  if  we  start 

* To  see  this  subject  more  fully  discussed,  the  reader  is  referred  to  Whewell’s  Phi- 
losophy of  the  Inductive  Sciences.” 


324 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


simply  upon  the  facts  of  consciousness,  allowing  that  only  to  be 
real  which  is  deduced  rationally  from  them,  we  can  never  suc- 
ceed in  getting  beyond  the  circle  of  our  own  subjective  being,  so 
as  to  prove,  by  logical  inference,  the  existence  of  a world  without. 
Self,  with  its  pregnant  consciousness,  is  one  world  ; nature,  with  its 
varied  changes,  another — each  resting  upon  its  own  evidence  ; but, 
as  all  knowledge  is  subjective,  a priori  principles  must  lie  at  the 
basis  even  of  physical  science,  while  physical  science,  in  its  turn, 
may  in  some  of  its  branches  throw  light  upon  the  workings  of 
mind  in  its  present  close  relation  with  the  material  world.  The 
question,  then,  as  to  the  real  nature  of  the  “philosophy  of  man,’’’ 
we  consider,  can  admit  but  of  one  rational  reply,  namely,  that  the 
physiologist  and  psychologist  have  their  own  separate  sciences, 
their  own  separate  facts,  and  their  own  separate  conclusions ; that 
both  proceed  on  sure  grounds,  and  may  evolve  in  their  own  de- 
partment sure  results  ; but  lastly,  that  the  one  of  these  branches 
may  often  be  employed  to  throw  light  upon  the  other. 

We  now  proceed  to  the  other,  and  the  far  more  difficult  point 
of  dispute  between  the  materialist  and  the  immaterialist,  namely, 
what  is  the  ultimate  principle  of  thought  in  man  ? is  it  homogene- 
ous with  matter  ? or,  is  there  a mind  essentially  distinct  ? Now, 
first,  there  is  not  much  difficulty  in  exploding  the  vulgar  appeal  to 
common  sense,  by  which  the  moi’e  shallow  and  thoughtless  mate- 
rialist attempts  to  shake  the  ordinary  belief  of  humanity  in  a think- 
ing soul  distinct  from  the  body.  He  says,  (in  an  argument  which, 
in  fact,  begs  the  whole  question,)  show  me  the  mind  ; point  it  out 
to  the  perception  of  any  of  the  senses  ; prove  to  me  in  this  way 
that  the  belief  in  it  is  not  a mere  delusion ; give  me  the  same 
strength  of  evidence  for  its  existence,  as  I can  furnish  you  for  the 
existence  of  matter,  and  I am  content.  We  reply,  what  is  your 
evidence  for  the  existence  of  matter?  You  talk  about  touching 
and  seeing  it,  but  what  is  it  that  sees,  and  what  that  feels  ? Is  it 
the  brain  ? If  so,  prove  it  on  your  own  principles.  Show  me 
any  physical  proces.s — any  action  of  the  nerves,  or  commotion  in 
the  cerebrum,  that  corresponds  with  a sensation  or  with  the  judg- 
ment, that  I have  an  external  object  now  lying  before  me.  Where 
is  the  analysis  of  matter,  however  refined,  which  has  resulted  in  a 
thought  or  a feeling  ; or  who  has  traced  the  action  of  the  nerves 
up,  step  by  step,  until  he  has  come  palpably  and  sensibly  to  an 
emotion?  You  know  of  the  existence  of  matter  simply  because 
yon  feel  that  it  exists  ; but  that  feeling  is  purely  a fact  of  your  in- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


325 


ward  consciousness,  which  upon  your  principles,  has  no  certainty 
or  reality  about  it.  Be  consistent  at  once ; give  up  everything  as 
veracious  which  has  not  external  evidence  ; and  give  up,  therefore, 
the  inward  feeling  upon  which  your  confidence  in  a material  world 
rests. 

If  the  materialist  rejoins,  that  the  various  feelings  and  judg- 
ments, of  which  we  are  conscious,  are  mere  phenomena,  which 
need  not  imply  the  existence  of  an  invisible  spiritual  essence,  we 
also  rejoin,  that  hardness,  or  extension,  or  size,  are  merely  phenom- 
ena which  need  not  on  the  same  ground  imply  a real  material  es- 
sence. Whether  we  regard  the  properties  of  body  or  mind,  the 
subjoining  to  them  of  an  essence  or  substratum  is  equally  a pro- 
cess of  pure  reason,  and  the  result  is,  a judgment  or  belief  which 
in  one  case  is  no  more  certain  than  the  other.  The  one  says,  I 
must  believe  in  matter,  and  there  is  an  end  of  the  discussion  ; the 
other  says,  with  an  equally  final  decision,  and  I,  too,  must  believe 
in  mind  : in  both  cases  alike  there  is  a falling  back  upon  the  evi- 
dence of  consciousness.  The  appeal  to  common  sense,  then,  is 
altogether  retortable,  and  leaves  the  whole  question  in  statu  quo ; 
both  matter  and  mind  resting  on  exactly  equivalent  evidence,  be  it 
sufficient  or  insufficient. 

Now,  as  the  whole  discussion  respecting  the  immateriality  of 
mind  has  from  its  very  nature  been  most  fruitful  in  misunderstand- 
ing and  logomachy,  let  us  see  in  what  the  combatants,  ordinarily 
speaking,  really  agree  and  in  what  they  differ.  With  regard  to 
the  facts  of  consciousness,  which  we  term  thought,  feeling,  will, 
&c.,  there  is  no  dispute ; all  admit  that  we  do  think,  that  we  do 
feel,  that  we  do  will ; to  deny  this  would  imply  a mere  play  upon 
words,  which  it  were  not  worth  while  to  notice  or  refute.  Again, 
both  parties  admit  certain  facts  relating  to  the  physical  conditions 
of  thought  or  sensation.  They  admit  that  we  have  a nervous  sys- 
tem, that  this  is  affected  by  impressions  from  without,  that  it  has 
its  centre  in  the  brain,  and  that  there  is  a certain  action  of  the 
brain,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  corresponding  with  all  the  mani- 
festations of  intelligence  or  feeling.  Now,  these  things  being  ad- 
mitted, we  pause,  and  ask — are  there  any  more  facts,  besides  those 
we  have  mentioned,  to  which  either  party  can  appeal  ? The 
facts  of  physiology  are  granted  on  the  one  side,  those  of  con- 
sciousness are  granted  on  the  other,  and  this  is  all,  absolutely  all, 
that  any  one  can  possibly  know  from  direct  observation,  whether 
it  be  external  or  internal.  The  point,  then,  at  which  the  materi- 


326 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


alist  and  the  immaterialist  commence  their  diverging  courses,  is 
just  where  they  have  run  the  full  length  of  actual  observation,  and 
begin  to  reason  or  to  theorize  upon  what  they  observe 

The  material  pliysiologist  reasons  thus : — Here  is  a wonderful 
piece  of  organization,  the  human  body,  producing  the  most  extra- 
ordinary operations.  Here  is  the  stomach,  which  performs  the 
functions  of  digestion ; here  the  liver,  which  secretes  the  bile ; 
here  the  brain,  which  produces  thought  and  emotion.  If  we  injure 
the  stomach  or  the  liver,  we  disturb  the  processes  which  they  were 
intended  to  carry  on ; and  so,  if  we  injure  the  brain,  it  is  found, 
that  we  equally  affect  the  processes  of  thought  and  feeling.  In  the 
two  former  cases  we  assign  nothing  beyond  the  material  organs  as 
necessary  to  give  the  observed  result,  and  why,  then,  should  we 
assign  anything  beyond  the  brain  as  necessary  to  account  for  the 
phenomena  of  mind  ? Let  us  find  out  what  matter  can  do,  before 
we  begin  to  say  what  it  cannot.  The  spiritualist,  on  the  contrary, 
reasons  upon  the  same  facts  in  a different  strain.  Here  are 
thoughts,  feelings,  volitions,  he  urges,  which  have  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  material  changes,  nothing  with  chemical  processes ; and 
what  can  the  entire  difference  observable  in  the  phenomena  (which 
in  the  former  case  we  cannot  conceive  to  result  from  the  mere  col- 
location of  material  particles)  indicate  to  us,  but  another  and  a 
spiritual  substance,  which  we  term  mind  ? 

Our  consciousness  only  comes  in  direct  contact  with  phenomena 
in  either  case.  Matter  is  that  unknown  something  which  has  ex- 
tension, impenetrability,  &c.;  mind  is  that  unknown  something 
which  has  feeling,  thought,  volition.  To  say  that  mind  is  matter 
is  to  say,  that  what  we  know  by  one  set  of  properties  is  the  same 
thing  as  that  which  we  know  by  another  set.  If  we  can  only  know 
matter  by  phenomena — this  affirmation  involves  a contradiction  in 
terms ; but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  contend  that  we  can  imagine, 
by  an  abstraction  of  the  reason,  a material  essence  to  lie  at  the 
foundation  of  both  series  of  phenomena — this  is  simply  an  hypoth- 
esis. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  these  two  explanations  are  in  fact  both 
of  them  hypotheses,  either  of  which  may  be  made  to  account  for 
the  facts  of  the  case,  but  which  we  have  to  judge  of  in  the  absence 
of  actual  demonstration  according  to  their  relative  prohahility. 
The  dogmatical  assumptions  of  absolute  certainty  so  common  on 
either  side,  as  also  the  contemptuous  imputations  of  absurdity,  must 
be  given  up  by  the  calm  inquirer,  and  he  must  regard  the  case. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


327 


when  viewed  simply  hy  the  light  of  the  understanding,  as  one  which 
at  present  can  only  rest  upon  probable  evidence.  The  whole  of 
our  attempt,  then,  in  the  present  instance,  is  to  estimate  probabili- 
ties, which  we  shall  accordingly  do  as  carefully  as  possible.* 

Against  the  materialist  hypothesis,  then,  there  are  various  objec- 
tions, which  appear  to  every  mind  stronger  just  in  proportion  as  it 
is  less  under  the  influence  of  the  senses,  and  more  under  the  influ- 
ence of  pure  reason. 

1.  There  is  usually  among  this  class  of  thinkers  an  entire  neglect 
of  the  notion  of  power  or  force.  We  contend,  that  whenever 
changes  take  place  in  the  material  world,  we  have  a distinct  idea 
of  power  exerted  in  the  production  of  the  phenomena,  over  and 
above  the  mere  co-existence  of  the  objects.  Any  two  material 
bodies,  we  know,  tend  to  move  towards  each  other ; this  is  all  we 
actually  understand  about  the  phenomenon ; and  we  express  our 
partial  knowledge,  and  at  the  same  time  hide  our  ignorance,  by 
saying  that  it  takes  place  by  the  law  of  gravitation.  But  the  law 
of  gravitation,  it  is  clear,  cannot  move  a world  or  a particle  ; to  do 
this  requires  force ; neither  can  we  possibly  divest  our  minds  of 
this  notion,  when  we  see  hard,  dull,  inanimate  matter,  hurled 
through  space,  and  made  to  perform  complicated  and  harmonious 
revolutions.  All  causes,  then,  as  implying  power,  are  spiritual  in 
their  nature ; we  cannot  possibly  reduce  them  to  the  idea  of  mat- 
ter ; in  fact,  we  never  conceive  of  any  force  producing  change, 
except  under  the  type  of  the  exertion  and  energy  of  our  own  will 
moving  the  material  particles  of  our  bodily  frame. f 

The  existence  of  efficient  causes,  we  are  well  aware,  is  very 
widely  disputed ; but  in  addition  to  their  reality  being  distinctly 
asserted  by  the  most  philosophical  minds  of  the  age,  we  cannot  but 
think  that  their  truth  is  tacitly  admitted  by  the  whole  spirit  of  phys- 
ical research ; to  wit,  by  the  perpetual  effort  that  is  made  to  dis- 
cover the  process,  which  goes  on  between  any  antecedent  and  its 
consequent.  Take  the  case  of  digestion  as  an  illustration  of  the 
principle  we  are  affirming.  The  stomach  is  the  organ  or  instrument 
in  this  process  ; but  no  one  can  suppose  that  it  is  the  cause.  There 
must  be  some  chemical  force,  whose  operation  we  very  imperfectly 
understand,  by  which  the  change  denoted  by  digestion  is  accom- 
plished ; and  even  if  we  were  to  get  one  step  nearer  than  we  are 

* We  shall  show  soon,  that  upon  a higher  or  transcendental  principle  of  pliilosophy, 
the  question  of  materialism  and  spirituaUsm  assumes  a very  different  form. 

f This  is  clearly  and  forcibly  stated  by  Sir  John  Herschel,  in  liis  “ Preliminary  Dis- 
course,” p.  86. 


328 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


to  the  " modus  operandi,”  we  should  still  look  for  another  yet  more 
recondite,  and  so  on,  until  we  had  attributed  the  “ primum  mobile,” 
to  a force  of  a purely  spiritual  kind.  Universally,  the  knots  or 
joints  which  unite  phenomena  are  the  grand  subjects  of  physical 
investigation  ; it  is  here  that  we  find  more  subtile  essences  in  op- 
eration ; here  we  discover  new  processes  ; neither  will  our  reason 
permit  us  to  rest  until  the  senses  are  baffled,  and  we  are  obliged  to 
admit  the  real  existence  of  a power,  which  is,  indeed,  beyond  our 
perception  ; but  rationally  cognizable  by  its  effects.  Materialists, 
from  the  habit  they  contract,  of  admitting  nothing  beyond  what  is 
visible  and  palpable,  are  ever  in  danger  of  confounding  the  organ 
of  a function  with  the  cause.  They  say,  for  example,  that  it  is  the 
stomach  which  digests,  and  the  liver  which  secretes  bile ; which, 
in  fact,  is  saying  nothing  at  all  beyond  the  fact,  that  these  are 
localities  in  which  such  operations  are  carried  on : but  as  to  the 
principle  of  these  operations,  we  must  look  for  a power  to  which 
nothing  material  has  the  slightest  resemblance,  and  the  secret  na- 
ture of  which  it  is  pretty  certain  we  shall  never  fully  understand  in 
our  present  state  of  existence. 

From  the  functions  just  mentioned,  let  us  now  turn  to  the  func- 
tions performed  by  the  brain.  Here  we  see,  that  in  connection 
with  certain  changes  in  the  particles  of  the  cerebrum,  we  experi- 
ence thoughts,  feelings,  emotions,  joys  and  sorrows,  peace  or 
excitement.  The  materialist  says,  that  these  molecular  changes, 
or  rather  the  various  states  of  brain  consequent  upon  them,  and 
termed  by  him  cerebration,  are  thoughts  and  feelings  : but  there 
is  here  an  evident  confounding  of  the  instrument  with  the  cause. 
Power  there  must  assuredly  be,  in  order  that  the  prodigious  effects 
of  mind  may  be  produced ; for,  to  say  nothing  of  the  intellectual 
features  of  the  case,  there  must  be  some  force  exerted,  when  the 
particles  of  the  cerebrum  of  the  nervous  system,  and  of  the  sinews 
of  the  muscular  frame,  are  thrown  into  movement.  The  only 
difference  between  this  case  and  the  former  ones  is,  that  in  those 
purely  physical  operations,  the  force  employed,  as  far  as  our  ob- 
servation goes,  is  perfectly  recondite,  that  it  acts  without  our  per- 
ception, although,  indeed,  we  can  easily  observe  its  effects.  On 
the  other  hand,  mental  force  is  an  object  of  direct  consciousness  ; it 
is,  in  fact,  the  only  force  respecting  which  we  have  any  knowledge 
of  its  mode  of  operation,  and  thus  becomes  the  type  by  which  we 
conceive  of  all  other  forces  existing  in  nature. 

We  observe  a movement  in  the  digestive  organs,  and  digestion 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


329 


is  the  result.  We  know  that  some  power  must  have  been  in 
operation,  but  we  do  not  comprehend  in  what  its  nature  consists. 
So,  also,  we  observe  a movement  in  the  cerebral  particles,  and 
muscular  movement  follows ; but  here,  unlike  the  former  case, 
there  is  a conscious  force,  that  of  the  will,  which  we  feel  to  have 
been  the  more  remote  cause  of  the  whole  phenomenon.  In  brief, 
wherever  we  see  change  or  motion,  there  we  necessarily  imagine 
some  power  adequate  to  the  production  of  the  effect.  In  digestion 
there  is  the  digestive  power,  in  animation  there  is  the  vital  power, 
both  known  to  exist,  but  unknown  in  their  nature,  except  so  far  as 
it  may  be  gathered  from  their  effects.  In  the  case  of  mind,  then, 
we  observe  as  effects,  thoughts,  feelings,  emotions  ; and  on  the 
same  principle  we  attribute  these  to  a thinking  power,  a feeling 
power,  and  an  emotive  power,  of  which  we  are  personally  con- 
scious, and  which,  whatever  it  may  be,  we  term  mind  or  soul  in 
its  various  manifestations.  We  conclude,  therefore,  that  if  all 
causes,  of  whatever  nature,  are  spiritual,  mind  being  a conscious 
and  intelligent  cause  can  lay,  of  all  others,  the.  first  claim  to  have 
the  notion  of  spirituality  attached  to  it. 

If  it  be  said  that  this  view  of  the  case  would  assert  the  existence 
of  some  spiritual  essence  wherever  phenomena  take  place,  and 
wherever  power  is  displayed  in  nature,  as  well  as  in  man,  we  admit 
the  inference.  All  natural  phenomena  bear  upon  them  the  impress 
of  a divine  spirit.  My  own  finite  effort  I attribute  to  the  agency 
of  my  own  finite  mind,  the  infinite  power  that  acts  around  me  I 
attribute  to  the  presence  of  the  infinite  mind.  God  is  revealed  in 
every  natural  phenomenon,  as  surely  as  self  is  revealed  in  every 
effort  of  the  will.  The  one  idea  of  spontaneity, . personality,  will, 
as  the  centre  of  movement  and  the  source  of  power,  is  that  which 
will  forever  baffle  both  the  materialist  and  the  atheist ; it  contains 
the  germ  of  that  belief  which  humanity  ever  has  felt,  and  ever 
will  maintain,  in  a soul,  and  in  a God. 

2.  From  what  we  have  just  said,  it  follows  that  materialists,  in 
assigning  a bodily  organ  as  the  principle  of  mind,  do  not  give  so 
clear  an  explanation  of  the  facts  of  the  case  as  those  who  hold  the 
existence  of  spirit. 

Here  are  certain  intellectual  phenomena,  which  all  admit ; — it 
is  required  to  know  how  they  come  into  existence.  The  material- 
ist says,  they  are  the  direct  result  of  certain  movements  in  the 
brain.  But  this,  in  fact,  is  only  evading  the  real  question.  How 
is  it,  we  would  ask,  that  the  brain  is  subjected  to  these  movements. 


330 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


and  what  is  the  force  employed  in  producing  them  ? The  materi- 
alist gives  no  satisfactory  answer  to  this  question,  while  the  spirit- 
ualist assigns  a real  power  or  cause,  which  is  amply  equivalent  to 
the  observed  elfects.  Both  must  admit  a power  of  some  kind  ; if 
the  lobes  of  brain,  for  example,  which  subserve  the  faculty  of 
memory,  reasoning,  or  comparison,  are  excited,  there  must  be  some 
force  or  other  employed ; the  one,  accordingly,  attempts  no  ex- 
planation of  it ; the  other  gives  an  explanation  which,  even  though 
admitted  hypothetical,  is  nevertheless  highly  probable  and  satisfac- 
tory. 

3.  The  system  of  materialism,  particularly  that  form  of  it,  which 
assigns  different  functions  to  the  various  portions  of  the  brain,  does 
not  even  attempt  to  explain  the  psychological  phenomena  of  the 
will.  The  operation  of  all  the  various  organs  is  manifestly  under 
some  superior  control.  There  is  a power  which  either  excites  or 
represses  the  working  of  the  faculties,  and  which  is  not  at  all  taken 
into  account  by  those,  who  regard  the  cerebrum  as  an  assemblage 
of  such  faculties  bpund  together  by  no  perceptible  tie.  The  will, 
to  which  we  attribute  this  power,  is  an  untiring  energy,  unim- 
paired either  by  labor  or  disease.  Continued  thought  is  always 
exhausting,  and  the  indulgence  of  emotions  is  exhausting  also ; 
both  of  which  facts  would  indicate  that  each  of  these  pi'ocesses  is 
carried  on  by  a material  instrumentality  ; but  the  will  is  ever  the 
same,  the  sense  of  personality  never  grows  weary,  is  never  lost  by 
any  kind  of  physical  injury ; and  herein  it  is,  therefore,  that  we 
should  place  the  essence  of  mind,  as  an  ever  acting  and  ever  un- 
wearied source  of  energy  and  power.  It  should  be  observed,  that 
we  do  not  put  forward  these  arguments  as  decisive  of  the  case  now 
under  review,  but  merely  as  considerations  which  show  that  the 
materialist  hypothesis  is  not  so  satisfactory  and  so  capable  of  ex- 
plaining all  the  facts  we  have  before  us,  as  it  sometimes  lays  claim 
to ; much  less  a theory  which  admits  of  those  lofty  pretensions  to 
clearness  and  simplicity,  which  it  sometimes  assumes. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  several  considerations  which  tend 
much  to  strengthen  the  probability  of  the  spiritualist  hypothesis. 

1.  There  is  the  unity  which  pervades  all  mental  phenomena. 
However  varied  our  thoughts,  however  complicated  our  emotions, 
however  numerous  our  volitions,  yet  they  are  all  referred  by  con- 
sciousness to  one  and  the  same  individual  self  To  account  for 
the  unity  of  our  conscious  being  is  by  no  means  easy  upon  the 
materialist  hypothesis,  whichever  way  it  be  viewed.  Phrenologi- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


331 


cal  materialism,  the  most  rational  of  all,  is  completely  baffled  in 
explaining  this  phenomenon ; inasmuch  as  it  is  impossible  to  show, 
in  what  manner  a conscious  unity  can  result  from  an  assemblage 
of  organs,  each  one  of  which  thinks  or  feels  for  itself.  If  it  be 
said,  that  there  is  something  common  to  all  the  organs,  by  virtue 
of  which  they  are  felt  to  belong  to  the  same  being,  then  we  ask 
what  is  this  something  which  is  felt,  or  what  is  this  being  which 
feels,  independently  of  the  cerebral  parts,  of  which  the  materialist 
supposes  it  to  consist.  If  they  be  referred  to  some  material  point 
in  the  centre  of  the  brain,  then  this  point  is  in  fact  the  mind,  the 
real  self ; and  the  brain  is  only  the  insti’umentality  by  which  it 
acts.  Moreover,  such  a point,  in  order  not  to  be  divisible,  must 
be  an  atom  or  a monad,  and  thus  we  are  landed  somewhere  in  the 
centre  of  the  Leibnitzian  philosophy,  the  tendency  of  which,  when 
made  intelligible,  is  to  support  an  ideal  or  dynamical  theory  of  the 
creation.*  But  if  it  be  supposed  that  there  is  something  in  com- 
mon actually  in  contact  with  all  the  organs,  by  virtue  of  which 
there  is  a felt  connection  between  them,  then  it  were  well  to  con- 
sider whether  this  is  possible  or  intelligible  except  on  the  hypothe- 
sis of  a spiritual  principle,  which  manifests  itself  in  and  through 
the  cerebral  organization.  If  the  materialist,  however,  still  further 
should  take  up  the  principle,  that  the  whole  brain  thinks,  just  as 
the  whole  stomach  digests,  then  we  ask  how  can  the  juxtaposition 
of  particles,  not  one  of  which  has  the  property  of  thought,  at 
length  come  to  create  it  ? Is  thei’e  any  imaginable  correspondence 
between  such  juxtaposition  as  cause,  and  thoughts  or  pleasures  or 
pains  as  effects  ; and  can  a mere  movement  of  the  brain,  without 
any  other  force  being  implied,  be  rationally  supposed  to  wield  the 
strong  and  nervous  muscles  of  the  human  body  ? The  answer  to 
this  brings  us  to  another  remark  in  favor  of  spiritualism,  namely, 

2.  That  it  assigns  a more  adequate  cause  to  account  for  the 
given  effects. 

The  whole  nature  of  mental  phenomena  is  such,  that  it  does  far 
less  violence  to  our  reason  to  suppose  that  a spiritual  principle  is 
in  operation  within  us,  than  to  rest  satisfied  with  the  notion,  that 
the  matter  itself,  of  which  the  brain  is  composed,  can  think,  or 
feel,  or  of  itself  produce  physical  exertion.  Where  there  must  be 
be  an  hopothesis  of  some  kind,  it  is  by  far  better  to  accept  that, 

* “ Si  vous  admettez  I’atome  absolu,  il  faut  admettre  en  lui  la  possibilit  de  la  mani- 
festation de  la  pensee  sous  peine  de  tomber  dans  une  petition  de  principes : car  ce 
n’est  que  dans  Timpossibilito  de  concevoir  la  pensee  dans  cet  atome,  qu’un  principe 
d’une  autre  nature  doit  etre  admis.”  See  Tissot’s  “ Anthropologie,”  vol.  ii.  p.  353, 


332 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which  appears  most  adequate,  especially  if,  instead  of  straining  and 
wrenching  our  fundamental  notions  of  material  properties,  it  offers 
a plain  and  simple  solution  of  the  facts  which  come  before  us. 

The  properties  of  matter  in  all  its  varied  forms  are  extension 
and  resistance  ; on  the  other  hand,  as  far  as  experience  goes,  there 
is  in  it  a total  negation  of  thought  and  consciousness  ; and  this 
being  the  case,  it  is  only  by  stripping  it  of  all  which  we  have  be- 
fore known  it  to  possess,  and  adding  that  which  was  never  before 
regarded  as  one  of  its  properties,  that  we  can  come  to  the  con- 
clusion, that  matter,  or  any  combination  of  matter  either  thinks  or 
feels. 

3.  The  idea  of  the  spirituality  of  mind  better  comports  with  the 
notions  which  mankind  have  ever  entertained  of  its  immortality. 
We  would  by  no  means  represent  the  properties  of  spirituality 
and  immortality  a«  being  so  closely  connected,  that  the  one  neces- 
sarily implies  the  other.  There  is  nothing  absurd  in  the  notion  of 
a material  existence  being  eternal,  or  a spiritual  one  being  perish- 
able, if  such  be  the  will  of  the  Creator ; nevertheless,  if  there  be 
any  grounds,  on  which  to  look  forward  to  a future  life,  it  is  un- 
questionably that  the  idea  of  a spiritual  mind  better  comports  with 
such  a pi'ospect,  than  that  of  a mind  which  results  from  material 
organization ; and  on  this  ground,  the  whole  of  the  separate 
evidence  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul  goes  to  strengthen  the 
evidence  for  its  spirituality.  Putting,  then,  all  these  remarks  to- 
gether, we  deny  that  there  is  any  superior  clearness  in  the  ma- 
terialist hypothesis  ; that  it  gets  rid  of  a single  difficulty  ; that  it 
has  peculiarly  the  suffrages  of  common  sense ; or  that  it  is  suc- 
cessful in  explaining  the  phenomena  for  which  we  have  to  account. 
On  the  contrary,  we  affirm  that  the  spiritual  hypothesis  is  equally 
comprehensible  ; that  it  is  in  much  better  keeping  with  the  unity 
of  our  thoughts,  feelings,  and  volitions  ; that  it  assigns  a far  more 
adequate  cause  to  produce  the  given  effects  ; and,  lastly,  that  it 
comports  better  with  the  dignity  and  immortality  of  human  nature. 
Setting,  therefore,  both  hypotheses  before  us,  and  estimating  their 
relative  probabilities,  we  have  no  hesitation  in  rejecting  material- 
ism, and  still  holding  to  that  spirituality  which  we  may  term  the 
common  belief  of  mankind. 

We  have  conducted  the  above  argumentation  on  the  principle  of 
Jouffroy,  (Pref.  to  Stewart,)  simply  from  the  stand-point  of  the  un- 
derstanding, supposing  the  ordinary  conception  of  matter  and 
mind  to  be  valid  really  as  well  as  phenomenally.  To  us,  however 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


333 


it  appears  evident,  that  the  whole  tendency  of  philosophy,  from 
the  time  of  Leibnitz,  has  been  to  bring  us  nearer  and  nearer  to  a 
purely  dynamical  theory  of  the  whole  universe.  The  idea  of  mat- 
ter is  the  most  dark,  indefinite,  unmeaning  of  all  ideas,  except  we 
consider  it  in  connection  with  certain  of  its  attributes,  i.  e.  as  ever 
exerting  certain  powers.  By  the  mechanist,  matter  is  measured 
and  reasoned  upon  simply  in  the  light  of  a power  ; the  chemist  in 
the  last  analysis  sees  only  centres  of  forces ; the  philosopher 
knows  the  me  and  the  not-me,  simply  under  the  law  of  a mutual 
action  and  reaction ; and  even  in  natural  theology,  the  only  truly 
conceivable  notion  we  can  form  of  the  act  of  creation,  is  that  of 
the  Divine  power  and  thought  going  forth  to  the  production  of 
form  in  the  wondrous  processes  of  nature  and  mind.  That  the 
phenomena  we  term  material  must  ever  exist  is  self-evident ; that 
they  indicate  a substratum  is  equally  certain ; but  that  the  real 
philosophic  analysis  of  this  substratum  will  bring  us  to  no  other 
result  than  that  of  an  action  and  reaction  of  forces,  appears  to  me 
to  amount  almost  to  a demonstration.  The  universe  in  this  light 
appears  far  more  simple,  more  harmonious,  more  beautiful.  In- 
stead of  a dualism  encumbered  with  metaphysical  paradox,  we 
have  an  homogeneous  creation,  together  with  the  activities  of 
which  it  is  composed,  rising  in  perfect  gi’adation  from  the  lowest 
forms  of  matter,  through  all  the  regions  of  organic  life,  to  the 
highest  development  of  mind  itself. 

On  these  principles,  power  acting  unconsciously  and  blindly,  is 
matter — power  raised  to  intelligence  and  volition  is  spirit.  The 
substratum  of  both  is  identical,  but  there  exists  in  their  most  in- 
ward nature  determinations  which  result  in  phenomenal  differences 
— differences  which  will  ever  be  marked  and  distinguished  by  the 
language  of  Dualism  ; because  ordinary  language  is  always  based 
upon  phenomena,  and  not  upon  a refined  metaphysical  analysis. 

“The  materialists  and  the  spiritualists,”  says  M.  Tissot,  “ought 
in  general  to  probe  more  deeply  than  they  have  done  the  notion  of 
matter ; they  would  then  have  been  forced  on  either  side  into  their 
last  intrenchments  ; would  have  discovered  the  point  of  intersec- 
tion of  material  and  physical  phenomena ; and  consequently  the 
point  of  view  under  which  matter  and  spirit  resemble  each  other 
and  are  identical,  as  well  as  that  in  which  they  are  distinguished. 
It  is  only  on  this  condition  that  agreement  is  possible ; without  this, 
men  will  dispute  eternally,  everybody  being  right  and  everybody 
being  wrong  at  the  same  time.  Every  one  will  be  wrong  in  this 


334 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


sense,  that  he  will  ignore  on  the  other  side  the  facts  which  he  ought 
to  accept  without  restriction,  and  of  which  it  would  be  necessary 
also  to  admit  the  consequences.  Every  one  would  be  right  in  this 
other  sense,  that  having  laid  down  the  exclusive  point  of  view  by 
wbich  he  reasons,  he  will  come  to  reject  necessarily  every  other 
hypothesis.*' 


Sect.  II. — Modern  Sensationalism  in  France. 

In  the  brief  sketch  we  gave  of  the  progress  of  sensationalism  in 
France  during  the  eighteenth  century,  we  traced  the  development, 
and  the  various  transformations  of  the  philosophy  of  Locke  through 
a succession  of  writers,  who,  while  they  popularized  and  adorned 
the  school  to  which  they  belonged,  by  a clearness  and  a brilliancy 
of  style  which  has  been  seldom  equalled,  and  perhaps  never  ex- 
celled, yet  shrank  not  from  asserting  and  maintaining  the  most 
startling  conclusions  of  materialism.  All  the  mental  operations 
were  reduced  by  them  simply  to  various  forms  of  sensation  ; morals 
became  a mere  balancing  of  self-interest ; the  mind  was  regarded 
as  the  result  of  organization  alone,  to  which  it  was  absurd  to 
ascribe  the  idea  of  immortality  ; while  the  name  of  God  was  made 
synonymous  with  nature,  or  altogether  disowned.  These  princi- 
ples we  followed  in  their  course  up  to  the  period  of  the  Revolution, 
which  for  a time  absorbed  the  attention  of  every  mind,  bore  along 
even  the  calmest  thinkers  with  it  in  its  fury,  and  allowed  them  no 
leisure,  and  perhaps  no  disposition,  to  reflect  upon  the  more  ab- 
struse subjects  of  philosophy.  No  sooner,  however,  did  the  excite- 
ment of  that,  stupendous  event  begin  to  abate,  than  the  purely 
philosophical  element,  which  had  for  a time  been  lost  in  the  politi- 
cal confusion,  began  to  re-appear,  and  to  excite  a portion,  though 
at  first  by  no  means  a considerable  portion,  of  public  attention. 

There  was  one  spot  in  the  vicinity  of  Paris  which  may  be 
marked  out  as  peculiarly  the  cradle  of  the  rising  philosophical 
spirit,  and  in  which  all  those,  whose  names  hold  any  prominent 
place  in  these  early  endeavors  to  revive  the  genius  of  Condillac, 
nurtured  their  young  attempts.  It  was  at  Auteuil  that  the  chief 
promoters  of  these  studies  regularly  met-  together,  to  discuss  the 
most  important  philosophical  problems  ; it  was  there  that  Cabanis, 
Garat,  Destutt  de  Tracy,  Volney,  Maine  de  Biran,  and  others,  ma- 

♦ Anthropologie,  vol.  ii.  p.  356. 


• SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


335 


tured,  in  conjunction  with  each  other,  many  of  the  theories  which 
made  so  brilliant  a debut  in  the  philosophical  world,  and  excited,  to 
so  considerable  a degree,  the  attention  of  metaphysicians  through- 
out Europe. 

Without  dwelling,  however,  upon  the  more  general  features  of 
sensationalism  in  its  first  appearance  after  the  Revolution,  we  shall 
proceed  at  once  to  take  a rapid  view  of  the  writings  of  those,  who 
gave  it  all  its  celebrity  and  its  value.  And  in  doing  so,  we  cannot 
but  remark,  as  a somewhat  singular  fact,  that  the  four  men,  who 
not  only  stand  at  the  head  of  this  philosophy,  (usually  termed  by 
themselves  ideology^  but  whose  writings  compose  almost  the  whole 
of  the  accredited  works  of  that  school,  were  born,  two  of  them  in 
the  same  year,  and  the  other  two  within  a very  short  period  before 
or  after.  Cabanis  and  Volney  were  born  in  the  year  1757,  Destutt 
de  Tracy  in  1754,  and  Garat  in  1758. 

Cabanis,  to  whom  we  must  first  direct  our  attention,  had  been 
in  his  early  life  both  a disciple  and  a personal  friend  of  Condillac. 
Under  his  guidance  and  tuition  he  had  studied  the  philosophy  of 
Locke,  and  had  fully  entered  into  the  method,  by  which  his  French 
commentator  attempted  to  complete  it.  All  we  know  of  Cabanis, 
therefore,  before  the  Revolution  is,  that  he  was  a professed  adherent 
to  Condillac’s  philosophical  opinions ; and  that,  in  accordance  with 
them,  he  must  have  regarded  all  the  active  operations  of  the  mind 
simply  as  forms  of  the  one  great  sensitive  faculty.  When  the 
events  of  the  Revolution  burst  upon  the  country,  Cabanis  was 
called  to  take  his  full  share  in  them.  He  w’as  the  intimate  friend 
of  Mirabeau  during  his  mad  career ; he  was  his  physician  in  sick- 
ness, and  conducted  the  examination  of  the  body  after  death. 
Equally  intimate  was  he  with  Condorcet,  whose  sister-in-law  he 
afterwards  married  ; and  it  is  confidently  affirmed  that  he  prepared 
the  poison,  with  which  that  remarkable  and  much  persecuted  man 
terminated  his  life.  In  the  third  year  of  the  republic  he  was  ap- 
pointed professor  of  medicine  in  Paris,  and  soon  after  was  elected 
member  of  the  National  Institute.  The  study  of  philosophy  had 
always  been  more  congenial  to  the  mind  of  Cabanis  than  that  of 
his  own  profession,  and  he  now  applied  his  mind  to  the  preparation 
of  no  less  than  twelve  different  Memoires,  which  were  read  at  the 
Institute,  and  published  in  1802,  under  the  title  of  “Traite  du 
Physique  et  du  Moral  de  I’Homme.”* 

* A second  edition  was  afterwards  published,  with  tables  and  indices,  by  M.  Destntt 
de  Tracy,  under  the  title  of  “ Rapports  du  Physique  et  du  Moral  de  I'Homme.” 
'^Paris,  1805.) 


336 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


In  this  work  Cabanis  sought  to  complete  the  philosophy  of  Con- 
dillac, or  rather  to  pursue  that  of  Locke  onwards,  from  the  point 
at  which  he  considered  Condillac  had  stopped  short.  Locke  had 
proved,  as  was  then  generally  admitted,  the  sensational  origin  of 
all  our  ideas  ; -Condillac,  proceeding  one  step  further,  had  shown  in 
what  manner  all  the  various  mental  operations,  by  which  our  ideas 
are  modified,  such  as  memory,  judgment,  abstraction,  and*others, 
might  be  philosophically  reduced  to  sensation  in  its  various  trans- 
formations. Cabanis  now  proposed  to  investigate  the  nature  and 
origin  of  sensation  itself,  and  thus  to  furnish  a clear  deduction  of 
all  our  intellectual  notions,  as  well  as  moral  feelings,  from  the 
primary  movements  of  our  physical  constitution.  The  result  of 
these  investigations  was  a theory,  which  from  its  extreme  simplicity 
can  be  explained  in  a very  few  words. 

The  nervous  system  he  considered  to  be  the  seat  and  the  cause 
of  all  sensation,  inasmuch  as  any  part  of  the  body  becomes  alto- 
gether insensible  the  very  instant  the  nerves,  which  reside  there, 
are  severed  from  the  rest  of  the  system,  of  which  they  form  a part.* 
When  an  impression  is  made  by  an  external  object  upon  any  of 
these  nerves,  it  is  instantly  conveyed  to  the  central  organ.  From 
this  a reaction  takes  place,  by  Avhich  the  impression  is  reconveyed 
to  the  extremities.  This  action  and  reaction,  he  showed,  must 
both  exist,  ere  the  sentiment  or  the  impulse  intended  to  be  pro- 
duced can  take  place. f The  whole  process,  then,  of  our  intellec- 
tual as  well  as  of  our  moral  feelings,  Cabanis  considered  to  be  here 
developed  with  the  most  consecutive  clearness  and  certainty.  The 
moral  feelings,  the  intellect,  the  will,  all  the  various  faculties  and 
emotions  of  the  mind,  were,  on  Condillac’s  principles,  clearly  re- 
ducible to  sensation ; but  sensation  he  now  proved  to  be  an  affec- 
tion of  the  nerves  : the  inference  was,  that  it  is  in  the  nerves  alone, 
that  the  whole  man  consists — “ Les  nerfs  voila  tout  I’homme.” 
Such  was  the  ultimate  idea  in  which  his  philosophy  terminated. 

These  extreme  opinions  excite  in  us  the  less  surprise,  when  we 
consider  that  Cabanis  had  been  nurtured  in  the  materialistic  school 
of  the  French  Encyclopaedists  ; so  far,  indeed,  from  seeing  in  him 
any  bold  attempts  to  carry  out  the  principles  of  his  masters  beyond 
their  legitimate  application,  we  clearly  recognize  in  the  admitted 
reaction  of  the  central  organ  a shrinking  back  from  the  hardihood, 

* Cabanis  takes  liis  primary  principles  for  granted,  without  appearing  to  imagine^  the 
very  necessity  ol'  a proof.  The  full  statement  of  his  views  on  this  point,  are  contained 
in  the  second  Memoire,  sec.  !d. 

f Mem  ii.  Sections  G and  7. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


337 


with  which  some  had  maintained  the  grossest  aspect  of  materialism. 
We  can  trace,  in  fact,  three  shades  of  opinion  amongst  the  phys- 
iologists of  that  age,  respecting  the  origin  and  nature  of  mental 
phenomena.  Some,  like  Helvetius,  D’Holbach,  &c.,  admitted 
nothing  whatever,  but  a physical  organism  acted  on  by  external 
agencies,  and  explained  all  the  facts  of  mind  by  means  of  this  pas- 
sive sensibility.  Others,  of  whom  Bichat  was  the  representative, 
maintained  the  existence  of  certain  vital  properties,  to  the  action 
of  which  the  phenomena  of  the  passions  and  the  understanding  are 
to  be  referred.  Cabanis  proceeded  a step  further  towards  spirit- 
ualism ; he  not  only  admitted  certain  vital  properties  in  connection 
with  our  organization,  but  was  forced  here  and  there  into  the 
avowal  that  the  principle  of  life  is  something  real,  over  and  above 
the  organs  and  their  properties.*  Strange  that  he  should  have  ad- 
mitted a spiritual  principle  to  account  for  the  phenomena  of  life, 
and  denied  it  with  respect  to  those  of  intelligence ! This  is  the 
more  to  be  wondered  at,  as  Cabanis  draws  out  the  parallel  between 
the  action  of  the  stomach  in  digestion,  and  that  of  the  brain  in 
thinking.  The  impressions  from  without  are  the  material — the 
food,  if  it  may  be  so  termed,  of  the  brain.  The  properties  of  the 
brain  react  upon  them,  as  the  gastric  juice  does  upon  our  natural 
food ; and  then  we  secrete  thought.  But  how  he  can  make  clear 
the  transformation  of  nervous  irritation  into  thoughts  and  feelings 
— how  he  can  imagine  the  phenomena  of  mind  to  be  in  any  sense 
forms  of  organic  processes,  how  he  can  instance  a comparison  be- 
tween the  shakings  of  a fluid  and  intellectual  facts,  as  though  they 
could  be  essentially  the  same,  only  regarded  from  a different  point 
of  view — it  is  left  for  us  to  comprehend  as  best  we  are  able.f 
In  the  meantime,  however,  Cabanis  was  not  behindhand  in  sup- 
porting his  theory,  by  collateral  evidences,  with  great  talent  and 
ingenuity.  He  showed  most  clearly,  how  dependent  our  intellec- 
tual development  and  moral  feelings  are  upon  a crowd  of  external 
circumstances  ; how  they  are  modified  by  age,  by  sex,  by  natural 
temperament,  by  food,  by  climate,  by  a hundred  other  things  of  a 
purely  physical  nature. J The  argument  derived  from  hence  was 


* Quolque  idee,  que  I’on  adopte  sur  la  cause  qui  determine  I’organisation,  on  ne  pent 
s’empocher  d’admettre  un  principe  que  la  nature  fixe  ou  repand  dans  les  liqueurs 
semmales. — Meinoire  iv.  sec.  1. 

f See  Dictionnaire  Philosophique,  Art.  Cabanis— also  an  excellent  critique  on  Cabanis 
by  Tissot,  Anthropologie,  Book  II.  Chap.  ii.  sec.  2. 

I The  influence  of  Age  upon  mind,  is  discussed  in  Memoire  iv. ; that  of  Sex  in  Mem. 
V. ; that  of  Temperament  in  Mem.  vi. ; that  of  Disease  in  Mem.  vii. ; that  of  Habits 
(regime)  in  Mem.  viii. ; and  finally,  that  of  Climate  in  Mem.  ix. 

22 


338 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


manifest.  The  various  changes  of  the  external  world,  and  the  dif- 
ferent states  of  bod}^  it  was  argued,  operate  upon  the  nerves  ; and 
the  nerves,  in  accordance  with  these  influences,  give  rise  to  all  the 
varieties  of  mental  and  moral  constitution  observable  between  dif- 
ierent  races  and  different  classes  of  mankind.  Find  out,  then,  by 
observation,  all  the  external  causes  by  which  the  nervous  system 
is  influenced,  and  you  have,  at  the  same  time,  all  the  elements 
which  enter  into  our  mental  or  moral  nature,  as  well  as  the  pri- 
mary source,  from  which  all  their  phenomena  are  derived.  The 
simplicity  of  this  theory,  the  ease  with  which  it  could  be  grasped 
by  all  minds,  however  deficient  in  philosophical  acumen,  the  popu- 
lar elegance  with  which  it  was  conveyed,  all  tended  to  give  it  a 
very  extensive  reputation.  “ The  physicians,”  says  one  of  his 
French  commentators,*  “ accorded  their  thanks  to  the  author  for 
the  learned  physiological  explication  which  he  gave  them  of  man’s 
moral  nature ; the  philosophers,  even  those  who  did  not  adopt  his 
theory,  were  delighted  with  the  relations  he  unfolded  between  the 
mind  and  the  body  ; the  half-learned  hoped  by  his  means  to  ac- 
quire two  sciences  at  once — physiology  and  psychology  ; and 
every  one  profited,  or  thought  that  they  profited,  by  his  ideas.” 
Notwithstanding  this  success,  however,  Cabanis,  who  appears  to 
have  been  an  honest  investigator  of  truth,  saw  reason,  after  a time, 
to  shrink  from  his  own  system,  and  distrust  his  own  conclusions. 
His  view  seemed  gradually  to  veer  round  as  he  studied  the  subject 
less  as  a physiologist  and  more  as  a philosopher:  added  to  this, 
he  had  too  deep  a sense  of  the  sanctity  both  of  morals  and  religion, 
to  leave  them  open  to  the  light  esteem,  if  not  contempt,  which  his 
own  principles  seemed  to  foster.  In  a second  work,  accordingly, 
which  was  published  after  his  death,  and  which  he  terms  “ A Let- 
ter upon  Primary  Causes,”  we  find  him  departing  very  decidedly 
from  his  original  notions,  and  manifesting  a retrograde  tendency 
towards  spiritualism  in  all  the  three  departments  of  psychology, 
morals,  and  theology.f  With  regard  to  the  soul,  he  now  asserts, 
that  it  cannot  consist  solely  in  the  nervous  system,  but  that  there 
must  be  a distinct  and  separate  existence,  by  which  the  move- 
ments of  our  physical  constitution  are  regulated  and  rendered  in- 

* Damiron — Hist,  de  la  Phil,  de  xix™'  Siecle,  vol.  i.  p.  93. 

f In  the  year  1805,  Cabanis,  it  appears,  became  intimate  with  a M.  Pauriel,  a young 
man,  who  to  great  abilities  added  an  earnest  love  for  the  Stoical  philosophy.  Through 
this  friendshif),  he  appears  to  have  been  led  to  relinquish  his  sensational  opinions  in 
favor  of  spiritualism.  The  letter  referred  to,  was  published  by  M.  Berard  in  1824,  under 
the  title  “ Lettre  a M.  P.  sur  les  Causes  Premieres,”  and  accompanied  with  notes  by  the 
Editor. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FUANCE. 


339 


telligent.  In  fact,  he  carries  out  the  notion,  which  he  before  ap- 
plied to  the  explanation  of  vital  phenomena,  to  the  phenomena  of 
consciousness,  and  ends  in  the  admission  of  a thinking  principle, 
an  indivisible  self.  The  moral  faculty,  moreover,  he  now  sa;v 
reason  to  distinguish  altogether  from  our  bodily  organization,  as 
giving  rise  to  an  order  of  feelings  and  sentiments  quite  peculiar  in 
their  kind,  and  to  which  no  mere  sensation  could  offer  any  ap- 
proach ; while,  with  regard  to  religion,  he  enters  a strong  and 
earnest  protest  against  the  reigning  atheism  of  his  time,  avowing 
his  belief,  as  he  expresses  it,  “with  the  great  Bacon,  that,  in  order 
to  deny  in  a formal  and  positive  manner  the  existence  of  a primary 
cause,  we  must  be  as  credulous  as  those,  who  admit  the  fables  of 
mythology  and  the  Talmud.”  Perhaps  there  is  no  other  writer 
who  gives  in  himself  so  complete  an  illustration  as  Cabanis,  of  the 
diversified  shades  of  French  philosophy  from  the  time  of  Condillac 
to  the  rise  of  eclecticism.  First  of  all,  we  see  him  advocating  the 
sentiments  of  Condillac,  his  friend  and  master ; next  we  find  him 
standing  at  the  head  of  the  materialist  school,  by  which  the  open- 
ing of  the  present  century  was  characterized  ; and  lastly,  in  his 
posthumous  writings,  we  view  the  germs  of  those  truer  and  better 
principles  by  which  materialism  itself  was  destined  so  soon  to  be 
supplanted  and  destroyed.  The  literary  life  of  Cabanis  alone 
would  furnish  us  with  a history,  tolerably  complete,  of  the  chief 
metaphysical  systems  of  France  in  the  last  and  the  present  century. 

The  rise  of  the  normal  schools,  and  especially  the  formation  of 
the  National  Institute  in  the  fourth  year  of  the  republic,  gave  a 
very  considerable  stimulus  to  the  study  of  mental  philosophy,  as 
well  as  the  other  sciences,  in  France.  At  the  head  of  the  philo- 
sophical department  of  the  former  stood  Carat — a man  less  known 
as  a writer,  than  as  a most  celebrated  lecturer  and  successful  sup- 
porter of  Condillac’s  metaphysical  principles.  The  only  original 
source  from  which  we  can  now  gain  any  know'ledge  of  his  lec- 
tures, is  to  be  found  in  the  archives  of  the  normal  schools,  among 
which  there  are  several  volumes  of  philosophy  from  his  pen.  His 
general  sentiments,  however,  are  sufficiently  known,  inasmuch  as 
to  him  mainly  is  due  the  increased  attention  which  was  paid  dur- 
ing the  first  decade  of  the  present  century,  to  philosophical  ques- 
tions in  France.  Of  a far  more  cautious  spirit  than  many  of  his 
predecessors.  Carat  confined  his  lectures  to  a comparatively  small 
range  of  subjects.  For  the  doctrines  of  ideology,  properly  so 
called,  he  argued  with  great  power,  and  no  inconsiderable  depth  • 


340 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


with  a clearness  not  unwortliy  of  Condillac  himself,  he  attempted 
to  establish  sensational  perception  as  the  basis  of  all  our  faculties ; 
and  in  his  programme  of  questions  to  be  treated  of  in  the  normal 
schools,  he  furnished  a plan  of  philosophical  investigation,  as  con- 
secutive in  its  parts,  as  it  was  symmetrical  in  its  whole  structure. 
For  the  application,  however,  of  these  principles  to  other  points  of 
great  importance,  we  look  in  vain  to  the  lessons  of  our  author. 
He  was  too  prudent  either  to  cany  out  morality  to  self-interest,  or 
sensationalism  to  materialism ; and  too  wise,  after  the  scenes  he 
had  witnessed  during  the  Revolution,  to  draw  any  inferences  that 
might  be  detrimental  to  the  re-establishment  of  religious  faith. 
As  Cabanis  was  the  physiologist  of  his  school,  so  Garat  was  the 
sober  and  cautious  professor,  adapting  his  instructions  to  the 
youthful  mind,  repressing  their  too  great  tendency  to  bold  specu- 
lation, and  saving  the  interests  of  morality  and  religion  at  the  ex- 
pense of  advocating  a narrowed  and  unimposing  system  of  sensa- 
tionalism.* 

Very  different,  in  almost  every  respect,  was  the  character  of 
Volney,  whom  we  must  regard  as  the  moralist  of  the  ideological 
school.  Volney  was  a bold  follower  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Baron 
d’Holbach  (to  whose  work,  entitled  “Systeme  de  la  Nature,”  we 
have  already  referred),  and  has  won  celebrity  as  an  ethical  philos- 
opher, not  so  much  from  the  originality  or  depth  of  any  of  his 
views,  as  from  the  authorship  of  a catechism,  where  the  principles 
of  his  school  were  briefly  and  clearly  digested,  and  which  came 
into  general  use  among  those,  who  preferred  the  morals  of  infidelity 
to  those  of  the  Bible. f Following  the  opinions  of  that  class  of 
philosophers,  who  saw  in  man  nothing  but  an  organized  mass,  who 
considered  the  nervous  system  to  be  the  sum  total  of  human  nature, 
who  acknowledged  no  existence  but  matter,  and  no  enjoyments 
but  tliose  of  sense,  it  was  natural,  nay  unavoidable,  that  his  moral 
system  should  be  based  entirely  upon  pleasures  and  pains,  aiming 
simply  at  the  attainment  of  the  one,  and  the  avoidance  of  the 
other. 

The  fundamental  idea  accordingly,  of  Volney’s  moral  philosophy, 
is  preservation — the  preservation  of  our  bodily  frame,  and  our 
other  external  relations,  in  such  a degree  of  perfection,  as  to  afford 

♦ The  works  of  Garat  are  not  easily  accessible.  My  information  on  them  is  chiefly 
due  to  M.  Damiron’s  “ Hist,  de  la  Phil,  en  France,”  which  contains  a brief  sketch  of 
his  life  and  labors. 

t It  is  entitled  “ La  Loi  Naturelle,  ou  Catechisme  du  Citoyen  Pranfais,”  (12mo. 
Paris,  I’an  deuxieme  de  la  Republique.) 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


341 


us  the  greatest  amount  of  physical  pleasure.*  He  knew  no  evil 
besides  death,  and  that  which  tends  to  it ; no  good  besides  life,  and 
the  external  pleasures  it  affords,  and  had  no  conception  of  moral 
obligation,  beyond  the  duty  of  living  so  as  to  defer  pain  and  death 
as  long  as  possible,  and  secure  as  much  as  might  be  allowed  of  life, 
health,  and  outward  comfort.f  In  so  far  as  virtue,  sobriety,  mod- 
eration, chastity,  and  the  like,  tend  to  the  preservation  of  life,  and 
the  promotion  of  health,  he  enforced  their  observance,  and  in  so 
far  as  the  social  and  domestic  duties  add,  in  the  long  run,  to  our 
security,  peace,  and  tranquillity,  he  enjoined  them  as  worthy  our 
approbation  and  pursuit ; but  he  considered  no  virtue  to  be  a good 
abstracted  from  its  influence  upon  our  sensual  happiness,  and  no 
vice  to  be  an  evil,  if  unaccompanied  by  its  penalties  and  pains.  J 
In  a word,  he  regarded  man  simply  as  an  animal ; the  whole  of  his 
moral  code  aimed  professedly  at  the  preservation  of  his  animal 
nature ; neither  did  he  shrink  from  defending  murder  itself  as  a 
virtue,  wherever  it  tends  to  our  security  or  defence.  In  such  a 
system  as  this,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  the  higher  moral  feelings 
were  completely  lost  sight  of ; that  everything  disinterested  was 
condemned  as  folly,  and  that  the  obligations  of  religion  were  set 
down  as  fit  only  for  the  dupes  of  priestcraft  and  superstition.  In 
representing  Volney,  however,  as  the  moralist  of  the  ideological 
school,  we  should  be  far  from  affirming,  that  the  rest  of  its  sup- 
porters went  similar  lengths  with  regard  to  their  contempt  for  relig- 
ion, or  that  they  would  have  so  completely  sunk  every  nobler  feeling 
of  our  nature  in  the  mire  of  selfishness.  Still  we  have  unquestion- 
ably in  him  a complete  illustration  of  the  morality  to  which  sensa- 
tionalism naturally  leads ; while  his  catechism  presents  an  instruc- 
tive specimen  of  that  moral  arithmetic  which,  employing  pleasures 
and  pains  as  the  ciphers,  would  calculate  all  the  duties  and  obliga- 
tions of  human  life.§ 

In  the  writings  of  the  three  preceding  authors,  whom  we  have 

* Take  the  following  specimen  of  the  Catechisme, — 

Q.  Developpez-moi  les  principes  de  la  loi  naturelle  par  rapport  a I’homme. 

A.  Ils  sont  simples  ; ils  se  reduisent  a un  precepte  fondamental  et  unique. 

Q..  Quel  este  ce  precepte  1 
A.  C’est  la  conservaiion  de  soi-meme. 
f Cat.  chap.  iv. 
t Cat.  chaps,  vi.  vii. 

\ Volney  sums  up  his  Ethics  in  the  following  words, — 

“ Toute  sngesse,  toute  perfection,  toute  loi,  toute  vertue,  toute  philosophie,  consistent 
dans  la  pratique  de  ces  axiomes  fondes  sur  notre  propre  organisation : — 

“ Conserve-toi, 

“ Instruis-toi, 

“ Modere-toi ; 

“ Vis  pour  tes  semblables ; afin  qu’ils  vivent  pour  toi. 


342 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


noticed,  there  are  easily  recognized  many  qualities  of  mind  which 
eminently  fitted  them  for  some  branches  of  philosophical  research, 
and  which  naturally  gained  for  them  a due  share  both  of  fame  and 
influence  with  the  public.  The  close  observation  of  Cabanis,  the 
clear  arrangement  of  Garat,  the  logical  order  and  brevity  of  Volney, 
amounting  almost  to  the  algebraical  form  of  expression,  all  gave  a 
great  force  and  a great  popularity  to  the  ideas  they  advocated  ; 
but  there  was  yet  a philosopher,  living  and  laboring  among  them, 
who,  if  inferior  in  some  other  respects,  still  united  in  himself  a 
power  of  analysis,  a faculty  of  metaphysical  abstraction,  and  an 
irrefragable  logic,  which  has  given  him  without  doubt  the  first 
place  among  the  sensationalists  of  his  age.  M.  Destutt  de  Tracy, 
to  whom  we  now  refer,  was  of  noble  birth  under  the  old  regime, 
and  brought  up  originally  to  the  military  profession.  At  the 
breaking  out  of  the  Revolution  he  entered  warmly  into  the  cause 
of  liberty,  but  at  the  fall  of  the  crown  retired  into  Auteuil,  where 
he  devoted  himself  chiefly  to  natural  philosophy.  Dragged  from 
his  peaceful  abode  during  the  Reign  of  Terror,  he  was  thrown  into 
prison,  and  there  beguiled  the  lonesome  hours,  when  no  other  ob- 
jects of  interest  were  around  him,  by  studying  the  processes  of  his 
own  mind.  On  his  release,  he  became  a senator  as  well  as  a 
member  of  the  “ Institut  National,”  and  at  the  restoration  was  raised 
to  the  dignity  of  a peer  of  France.  He  died  in  1836,  admired 
by  all  for  his  literary  ability,  his  ardent  patriotism,  and  his  public 
virtue. 

It  is  to  M.  Destutt  de  Tracy  that  the  wide-spread  fame  of  ideol- 
ogy is  mainly  due,  and  from  his  writings  that  its  real  philosophical 
character  is  almost  universally  estimated.  There  is  in  the  whole 
theory  of  this  author,  the  same  simplicity,  the  same  exactness,  the 
same  clear  precision,  that  we  find  in  those  to  whom  we  have  al- 
ready referred  ; but  there  is  also  a power  of  reasoning,  and  a depth 
of  thought,  both  in  analysis  and  in  generalization,  which  gives  him 
a right  to  the  honor  of  being,  par  excellence,  the  metaphysician  of 
his  school.*  One  fault,  however,  is  still  apparent  among  his  many 
better  qualities,  and  that  is  a deficiency  in  the  faculty  of  sub- 
jective observation,  and  a consequent  indisposition  to  recur  to  the 
data  upon  which  his  first  principles  rested.  Give  him  his  data 
ready  made,  and  his  all-embracing  logic  builds  you  a superstruc- 
ture, which  seems  as  perfect  as  it  is  beautiful ; but  the  truth  is, 
perhaps,  altogether  lost  sight  of,  that  philosophical  structures,  as 
* Damiron’s  “ Hist,  de  la  Phil.”  vol.  i.  p.  99. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


343 


well  as  all  others,  must  have  foundations,  which,  if  not  kid  firmly 
and  cautiously,  soon  endanger  the  whole  building.  For  first  prin- 
ciples, M.  Destutt  de  Tracy  had  recourse  simply  to  his  prede- 
cessors, following  Condillac  and  Cabanis,  the  one  in  his  psycholog- 
ical, the  other  in  his  physiological  investigations.  Having  thence 
taken  his  start,  he  carries  on  his  work  with  admirable  precision, 
embracing  everything  important  as  he  proceeds,  until  you  see  a 
whole  system,  in  which  nothing  seems  wanting  till  you  examine 
the  basis  upon  which  it  all  reposes.* 

To  illustrate,  however,  and  justify  these  remarks,  we  shall  just 
glance  at  the  course  of  reasoning  our  author  pursues  in  his  “ Ele- 
ments dTdeologie,”  a work  which  has  given  its  name  to  the  sys- 
tem it  upholds.  First  of  all,  we  must  premise,  that  the  doctrine  of 
Cabanis  is  there  fully  accepted — a doctrine  which  supposes  all 
sensation  to  result  directly  from  the  action  of  the  nervous  system, 
nay,  which  regards  the  nerves  and  the  mind  as  synonymous  terms, 
the  one  being  the  physiological,  the  other  the  psychological  expres- 
sion for  the  same  thing.!  Next,  the  well-known  theory  of  Con- 
dillac, to  which  we  have  so  often  made  allusion,  is  elaborately 
upheld,  according  to  which,  thought,  feeling,  and  all  the  varieties 
of  the  moral  sentiments,  are  but  different  variations  of  sensation. 
These  may  be  regarded  as  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  whole 
work,  and  it  is  in  the  full  development  of  them,  more  particularly 
of  the  latter,  that  M.  de  Tracy  has  manifested  the  power  and  fer- 
tility of  his  mind. 

In  carrying  out  this  development,  he  shows  that  the  sensitive  fac- 
ulty, with  which  we  are  endowed  as  the  basis  of  our  intellectual 
life,  is  susceptible  of  a great  variety  of  impressions,  of  different 
kinds  and  of  different  intensities.  These  impressions  may  be  re- 
duced to  four  distinct  species.  There  are,  first,  those  which  result 
simply  from  the  direct  action  of  an  external  object  upon  the  nerves, 
and  which  are  ordinarily  termed  sensations  or  perceptions.  Sec- 
ondly, there  are  impressions,  which  are  derived  from  objects  not 
directly,  but  indirectly,  which  result  not  from  their  actual  presence, 
but  from  their  past  action,  and  from  the  effect  they  have  left  be- 

• * M.  Dest.  de  Tracy’s  philosophical  works  are  contained  in  2 vols.,  with  the  general 
title  of  “ Projet  d’Elements  d’Ideologie.”  They  comprehend  the  Ideologie  properly  so 
called,  a “ Grammaire  Generale”  containing  the  theory  of  language,  a “ Logique”  for 
explaining  the  processes  of  reasoning,  and  lastly,  a “ 'Traito  de  la  Volonte.”  He  pub- 
lished also  a commentary  on  the  “ Esprit  des  Lois.” 

I Ideologie,  chap.  ii.  His  definition  of  sensation  runs  as  follows  : — “ La  sensibilite 
est  cette  faculte,  ce  pouvoir,  cet  effet  de  notre  organisation,  ou,  si  vous  voulez,  cette 
propriete  de  notre  etre,  en  vertu  de  laquelle  nous  recevons  des  impressions,  de  beaucoup 
d’especes,  et  nous  en  avons  la  conscience.”  p.  39. 


344 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


hind  them  upon  the  nervous  system  : these  account  for  all  the 
plienomena  of  memory  and  conception.  Thirdly,  there  are  impres- 
sions produced  upon  us  by  two  or  more  objects  or  sensations,  that 
have  certain  relations  to  each  other ; which  impressions,  from  the 
fact  of  their  embodying  relations,  we  usually  iQvm  judgments  of  the 
mind.  And  lastly,  there  are  impressions  which  result  from  certain 
physical  feelings  of  want  or  of  danger,  of  pleasure  to  be  gained  or 
pain  to  be  avoided,  and  which  lead  us  instinctively  to  perform  the 
peculiar  actions  by  which  such  impulses  may  be  satisfied.  Hence 
result  the  emotions,  desires,  and  passions,  which  play  so  large  a 
part  in  the  economy  of  human  nature.*  In  this  way  the  phenom- 
ena of  perception,  of  memory,  of  reason,  of  emotion,  are  all  reduced 
to  the  one  element  of  sensation,  and  sensation  itself  to  the  action 
of  the  nerves  as  stimulated  by  the  various  circumstances  of  the 
external  world.  Setting  aside  the  consideration  that  the  whole 
theory  lacks  a sound  basis,  we  cannot  but  admire  the  clearness  and 
the  ingenuity  with  which  the  author,  in  a small  work  of  some  350 
pages,  has  developed  all  the  main  points  connected  with  the  analy- 
sis of  the  human  mind.  In  the  first  eight  chapters,  he  disposes  of 
the  whole  subject  of  the  intellectual  powers,  reducing  them  as  we 
have  said  to  the  one  fact  of  sensation  ; in  the  next  three  he  shows 
the  application  of  the  principles  established,  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  properties  of  bodies  ; and  in  the  last  six,  develops  the  doctrine 
of  the  will,  and  shows  the  results  which  flow  from  the  combination 
of  the  intellectual  and  voluntary  phenomena  in  human  nature. 

We  shall  not  stop  now  to  point  out  particularly,  the  deficiencies 
which  the  system  advocated  by  M.  de  Tracy,  notwithstanding  all 
its  ingenuity  and  consecutiveness,  presents ; nor  attempt  to  show 
how  he  has  passed  over,  or  only  half  explained  such  phenomena 
as  those  of  abstraction  and  generalization,  the  power  of  the  will 
and  the  peculiarity  of  the  moral  emotions.  Instead  of  this,  we 
shall  rather  offer  a brief  critique  upon  the  ideological  philosophy  in 
general,  as  it  appears  upon  the  pages  of  the  four  eminent  men 
whom  we  above  enumerated,  and  to  whom  its  celebrity  throughout 
Europe  is  almost  entirely  due.  The  materialism  of  Cabanis,  how- 
ever, we  must  remind  our  readers,  does  not  attach  to  ideology  as  a 


* Nous  avons  deja  remarquo,  quo  nous  avions  des  idees  ou  perceptions,  de  quatre 
cspeces  differents.  Je  sens,  que  je  me  brule  actuelleinent ; c’est  une  sensation  que  je 
sens.  .Te  me  rappelle,  que  je  me  suis  brule  hier ; c’est  un  souvenir  que  je  sens.  Je 
juge  que  c’est  un  tel  corps,  qui  est  cause  de  ma  brulure;  c’est  un  rapport  que  je  sens 
entre  ce  corps  et  ma  douleur.  Je  veux  eloigner  co  corps,  c’est  un  desir,  que  je  sens. 
Voila  quatre  sentiments,  ou  pour  parler  de  langage  ordinaire  quatre  idees,  qui  ont 
des  caracteres  bien  distincts.” — “ Ideologic,”  p.  37. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


345 


system,  and  therefore  is  more  properly  left  out  in  the  objections  we 
shall  now  advance.  The  lectures  of  Garat,  the  ethics  of  Volney, 
and  the  logical  deductions  of  Destutt  de  Tracy,  will  equally  hold 
good,  whatever  theory  we  accept  to  account  for  the  phenomena 
of  sensation  itself.  The  great  problem,  rather,  which  these  philos- 
ophers attempt  to  work  is,  to  adduce  from  sensation,  as  an  ultimate 
fact,  all  the  phenomena  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  life  ; and 
therefore,  leaving  for  the  present  the  endeavors,  which  some  of 
them  have  made  to  reduce  sensation  to  physical  processes,  we  shall 
simply  point  out,  in  what  respects  they  appear  to  us  as  a whole,  to 
come  short  of  any  satisfactory  solution  of  the  point,  upon  which 
they  have  expended  so  much  argument  and  ability. 

1.  We  maintain  that  the  French  ideology  does  not  explain  the 
facts  of  the  human  understanding.  The  distinction  between  the 
sense-perceptions  which  arise  involuntarily  from  the  presence  of 
an  external  object,  and  those  active  operations  of  the  intellect 
which  we  carry  on,  when  quite  abstracted  from  the  world  without, 
is  so  obvious,  that  the  two  have  never  been  confounded  by  any, 
except  those  who  have  had  a preconceived  theory  to  support. 
Memory,  it  is  true,  may  be  the  memory  of  a sensation,  but  it  is 
not  the  thing  remembered ; it  is  the  power  of  recalling  the  thing, 
that  has  to  be  accounted  for  in  our  analysis  of  this  faculty,  and 
which,  especially  in  the  case  of  voluntary  memory  or  recollection, 
is  not  at  all  explained  by  terming  it  a prolonged  sensation.  A pro- 
longed sensation  would  be  as  passive  throughout  its  whole  duration 
as  a sudden  one  ; in  recollection,  on  the  other  hand,  the  mind,  from 
a purpose  and  impulse  of  its  own,  casts  around  for  every  spring  of 
association,  in  order  to  call  up  the  notion  it  requires.  In  any  case 
of  memory,  indeed,  the  distinction  between  the  mere  passive  and 
receptive  state  indicated  by  sensation,  is  perfectly  distinct  from  the 
active  operation  of  which  we  are  conscious  in  recalling  a past  fact 
of  our  mental  history  from  its  apparent  oblivion. 

Judgment,  again,  may  involve  the  simultaneous  perception  of 
two  objects  holding  a certain  relation  to  each  other,  but  the  per- 
ception of  the  objects  themselves,  and  the  estimating  their  relations, 
are  two  processes  altogether  different.  I may  perceive  two  things 
to-day  without  passing  any  judgment  upon  the’tr  relations,  and  to- 
morrow I may  have  precisely  the  same  perception  of  them,  and 
append  to  it  a mental  comparison  of  the  two,  which  1 am  con- 
scious, is  an  act,  and  sometimes  a very  complicated  act,  of  my 
own  understanding.  Still  less  has  the  system  we  are  considering 


346 


MODERN  PHIEOSOPHY. 


been  able  to  explain  the  more  complex  facts  of  generalization  and 
abstraction,  and  the  lofty  creations  of  imagination.  That  an  ab- 
stract idea,  or  a general  term,  or  a glowing  fancy-picture,  can  be 
produced  by  the  same  means,  and  by  the  same  process  as  the  or- 
dinary sensations  we  experience  of  actual  existences  around  us,  is 
intelligible  on  no  other  principle  than  that  of  an  ultra  idealism,  ac- 
cording to  which  the  so-termed  real  as  well  as  unreal  world,  are 
both  alike  the  creations  of  our  own  subjective  self. 

If  we  pass  from  the  consideration  of  our  faculties,  to  that  of  our 
more  refined  notions  and  intuitive  ideas,  here,  again,  the  impossi- 
bility of  accounting  for  the  facts  of  the  case  upon  the  sensational 
principles  we  are  opposing,  meets  us  with  equal  decision.  By 
what  means,  we  ask,  do  we  acquire  the  notions  of  time  and  space  ? 
If  we  suppose  them,  on  the  one  hand,  to  be  purely  supersensual 
ideas,  then  we  must  have  some  rational  faculty  to  grasp  them,  in- 
asmuch as  sensation  can  only  take  cognizance  of  the  various  mod- 
ifications of  matter ; or  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  suppose  them, 
with  Locke,  to  be  abstractions  from  our  sensations,  yet  still  we 
must  have  the  power  of  abstracting  them,  which  is  a process  alto- 
gether different  from  that  of  sensation  itself,  and  one  which  it  is 
impossible  to  reduce  to  the  same  elements.  Whence,  again,  do  we 
acquire  our  belief  in  the  external  world  ? If  you  say,  from  sensa- 
tion,— then  beware  lest  some  sceptical  philosopher,  like  Hume, 
plunge  you  in  a sea  of  doubt  respecting  the  reality  of  your  sense- 
perceptions  ; a situation  from  which  you  are  quite  sure  never  to 
be  extricated  until  you  admit  some  pi’inciple  of  primary  belief,  or 
some  original  dictate  of  common  sense  prior  to  experience,  from 
which  you  may  gain  a firm  conviction,  that  the  judgments  you 
pass  upon  your  sensations,  respecting  the  material  world,  are  valid. 
Further,  we  might  inquire,  from  what  source  we  draw  our  notions 
of  power,  of  cause  and  effect,  and  some  others  of  a similar  nature. 
The  reduction  of  these  to  the  level  of  sense  and  experience,  as 
Hume  has  shown  by  a process  of  irrefragable  logic,  would  in  the 
end  reduce  creation  to  chance,  religion  to  folly,  and  all  mankind 
to  atheism.  We  urge,  therefore,  on  these  grounds,  (and  many 
more  might  be  enumerated,)  the  incapacity  there  is  in  the  ideolog- 
ical philosophy,  to  Account  for  the  most  palpable /acis  of  the  hu- 
man understanding.  Physiological  experience  itself  tells  us,  that 
when  certain  stimuli  urge  any  function  into  operation,  they  may 
give  rise  to  an  action  generically  different  from  those  stimuli  them- 
selves ; and  by  the  same  analogy  we  can  conclude  that  the  mental 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


347 


excitement  afforded  by  sensation  maj  possibly  give  occasion  to  an 
intellectual  action  which,  in  its  nature,  altogether  differs  from  it ; 
while  actual  observation  raises  that  possibility  into  a sure  and  cer- 
tain fact. 

2.  The  sensational  system  we  are  considering,  does  not  account 
for  the  power  of  the  will.  There  is  in  man  a source  of  power — 
a secret  spring  of  action,  of  which  every  one  is  conscious,  and 
upon  the  consciousness  of  which  every  one  acts — that  we  call  self. 
In  whatever  light  we  view  our  nature,  we  find  such  an  invisible 
energy,  which  cannot  be  accounted  for  upon  any  mechanical  prin- 
ciples, playing  an  important  part  in  the  whole  of  our  conscious 
existence. 

If  we  study  man  physiologically,  we  must  necessarily  suppose  a 
self  before  we  can  account  for  the  phenomena  of  muscular  action, 
which  every  hour  presents.  Cabanis  himself,  as  we  have  before 
remarked,  although  in  his  former  publication  he  had  denied  the  ex- 
istence of  anything  beyond  the  nervous  system,  was  obliged  after- 
wards to  admit  some  real  and  distinct  unity,  without  which  he 
perceived  it  to  be  quite  impossible  to  explain  the  formation,  the 
animation,  and  the  preservation  even  of  our  material  frame.  Un- 
doubtedly it  might  be  urged,  that  the  influence  of  a kind  of  animal 
instinct  may  account  for  many  of  the  actions  of  man,  as  well  as 
those  of  the  brutes ; but  there  is  within  ourselves,  in  addition  to 
this,  a higher  power,  which  is  superior  to  sense,  which  subdues  the 
very  force  of  our  instincts,  which  leads  us  perpetually  to  oppose 
and  thwart  our  mere  animal  nature,  and  which,  so  far  from  being 
synonymous  with  instinct,  is  possessed  in  an  infinite  variety  of 
intensity  by  men  of  the  same  bodily  temperament  and  the  same 
natural  propensities.* 

If,  again,  we  regard  man  as  an  intelligent  being,  here,  also,  we 
find  the  will  operating  in  every  faculty  we  exercise.  The  power 
of  attention  is  nothing;  more  or  less  than  the  will  exertincf  itself  in 
modifying  or  prolonging  the  trains  of  thought — trains  which  are, 
in  fact,  never  left  to  themselves  uncontrolled,  except  in  the  hours 
of  sleep,  reverie,  or  of  mental  disease.f  The  same  voluntary  en- 
ergy explains  the  rise  of  many  of  our  fundamental  ideas ; it  gives 

* See  a small  Tractate,  by  John  Barlow,  A.M.,  “ On  the  Connection  between 
Physiology  and  Mental  Philosophy.” 

t Cabanis  admits  the  fact  of  attention,  as  one  of  the  modifying  conditions  of  the  sen- 
sational organs.  “ C’est  I’attention  de  I’organe  sensitif,  qui  met  les  extremites  nerveuses 
en  etat  de  recevoir  ou  de  leur  transmettre  I’impression  tout  entiere.”  Strange  that  he 
never  thought  of  asking  what  the  attention  of  the  sensitive  organ  involved.  Assui’edly 
it  impUes  sometliing  more  than  mere  passive  sensation  itself. 


348 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


US  all  the  notion  we  have  of  power,  and  consequently  of  causality : 
it  lies  at  the  foundation  of  human  liberty,  and  is  therefore  the  cor- 
nei'-stone  of  all  moral  responsibility.  Of  this  great  agent  in  our 
consciQus  existence,  sensationalism,  as  held  by  the  philosophers 
now  under  our  consideration,  can  render  no  account.  M.  Destutt 
de  Tracy,  indeed,  affirms  a liberty  in  man,  which  he  terms  the  power 
to  act — that  is,  the  power  of  performing  mechanical  actions  in  obe- 
dience to  the  investigation  of  our  nervous  system;  but  this  is  by 
no  means  an  adequate  explanation  of  the  facts  of  the  case.  Whence 
comes  the  determination  to  act  upon  certain  fixed  principles ; 
whence  the  design  that  points  at  the  accomplishment  of  great  ob- 
jects ; whence  the  energy  which,  in  the  pursuit  of  its  purposes, 
overcomes  the  allurements  of  sense,  breaks  down  all  the  barriers 
of  our  propensities,  and  despises  weariness,  suffering,  and  death 
itself,  in  comparison  with  the  fulfilment  of  the  moral  laws,  to  which 
it  owes  eternal  allegiance  ? Here  are  questions  on  which  our 
author  is  silent — here  facts  of  daily  life,  to  which  his  whole  system 
affords  no  solution. 

3.  We  urge  still  further,  that  the  French  ideology  does  not  ac- 
count for  the  emotions  of  our  nature.  It  commits  an  error  in  the 
outset  by  confounding  our  emotional  feelings  with  those  which  are 
purely  sensational.  In  sensation  there  is  no  intellectual  action 
whatever ; the  mind  is  then  existing  merely  in  a receptive  state ; 
that  is,  it  is  simply  feeling  the  impressions  which,  according  to  its 
constitution,  things  from  without  are  capable  of  making  upon  it. 
Emotions,  on  the  contrary,  arise  from  some  actual  notion  or  con- 
ception, which  has  been  formed  by  the  exercise  of  the  intellect, 
and  which  produces,  according  to  its  nature,  corresponding  feelings 
or  impulses  in  the  mind.  Every  one  can  easily  distinguish  the 
generic  difference  between  the  pleasurable  feeling  we  derive  from 
the  taste  of  an  apple,  and  that  which  we  derive  from  the  oc- 
currence of  some  auspicious  event ; or  between  the  painful  feel- 
ing arising  from  a grating  sound,  and  that  arising  from  any  cir- 
cumstance which  inspires  us  with  fear  or  dread.  The  former  class 
of  feelings  come  from  d material  cause,  and  cease  the  instant  their 
cause  is  removed ; the  latter  arise  from  our  inward  perception  of 
something  relating  to  our  own  interests,  from  a purely  intellectual 
idea,  involving  good  or  evil  to  ourselves.  These  fundamental  dis- 
tinctions are  in  the  philosophy  now  before  our  attention  altogether 
confounded,  and  the  nervous  system  is  made  so  excessively  and 
incredibly  sensitive,  that  it  can  shrink  at  an  evil,  or  thrill  at  a 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


349 


prospect  that  may  be  realized  a year,  or  perchance  ten  years 
hence. 

Of  all  the  emotions,  however,  those  which  come  under  the  prov- 
ince of  sesthetics  are  the  least  satisfactorily  explained.  On  the 
ideological  principles,  the  emotion  of  beauty  can  be  nothing  more 
than  a peculiar  kind  of  sensation,  produced  by  a peculiar  kind  of 
outward  object.  Now  we  do  not  at  all  deny  that  the  emotion  in 
question  does  really  arise  with  the  presence  of  certain  objects, 
termed  beautiful ; but  if  we  analyze  this  emotion,  we  see  that  it 
contains  an  element  in  it  quite  different  from  that  which  is  here 
supposed.  We  judge  of  beauty,  whether  it  be  in  poetry,  or  paint- 
ing, or  nature,  according  to  some  internal  model  of  perfection — 
some  beau-ideal  which  exists  only  in  our  own  minds ; and  we  term 
a thing  beautiful  or  not,  according  to  its  greater  or  less  resem- 
blance to  this  standard.  We  never  see  a perfect  model  of  beauty, 
either  in  art  or  nature,  and  never,  therefore,  perceive  our  beau-ideal 
embodied  in  the  beau-real ; on  the  contrary,  however  lovely  any 
actual  form  may  be,  there  is  ever  “aliquid  immensum  infini- 
tumque,”  some  pure  abstraction  of  perfection  immeasurable  and 
infinite  in  its  nature,  that  still  transcends  it,  and  lies  at  the  founda- 
tion of  all  the  higher  exercise  of  taste  and  fancy.  Again,  we  say 
then,  that  the  ideological  school  altogether  fails  of  a theory,  upon 
which  it  is  possible  to  explain  all  that  is  peculiar  to  the  emotions 
of  the  sublime  and  the  beautiful. 

4.  We  urge,  lastly,  that  the  system  we  are  opposing  does  not  ac- 
count for  the  facts  of  our  moral  and  religious  nature.  The  founda- 
tion of  all  morality,  according  to  these  philosophers,  is  utility  in 
the  very  lowest  sense  of  the  term  ; and  the  aim  of  all  duty  is  the 
preservation  of  our  physical  enjoyment.  These,  we  affirm,  are  the 
morals  that  are  exactly  fitted  for  an  animal,  which  derives  all  its 
happiness  from  sense,  and  has  no  wish  beyond  the  satisfaction  of 
its  bodily  instincts.  Viewing  man  in  this  light,  the  catechism  of 
Volney  is  a very  excellent  summary  of  duty  ; and.  perhaps,  might 
lead  on  his  theory  of  man  to  as  great  an  amount  of  mere  animal 
pleasure  as  could  be  expected  in  the  present  constitution  of  things.* 
In  opposition  to  this,  however,  we  contend,  that  to  view  human  na- 
ture in  this  light,  is  to  strip  it  of  everything  that  is  great  or  good  ; 
to  banish  every  true  virtue  from  the  world,  as  far  as  it  is  bound  to 
spring  from  a virtuous  source ; and  to  hasten  on  a result,  which 

* M.  Destutt  de  Tracy,  in  his  “ Traite  de  la  Volonte,”  affirms  the  theory  of  Hobbes, 
that  man’s  will  or  desire  is  his  sole  law;  that  justice  and  injustice  exist  not  in  the 
nature  of  things ; that  all  morality  is  based  upon  human  legislation. 


350 


MODERN  riHLOSOPHY. 


would  end  in  the  breaking  up  of  every  tie  that  holds  human  society 
together. 

There  are  in  the  human  mind  universally  two  great  fundamen- 
tal notions  of  right  and  wrong,  which  are  as  absolute  in  their  na- 
ture, and  as  impossible  oi  being  obliterated,  as  any  fundamental 
axioms  of  man’s  universal  belief.  The  fact,  that  men  of  different 
nations,  in  different  ages,  and  in  different  states  of  mental  develop- 
ment, have  held  the  most  conflicting  notions,  as  to  what  belongs  to 
the  category  of  right,  and  what  belongs  to  that  of  wrong,  is  no 
evidence  whatever  against  the  universality  of  those  fundamental 
notions  themselves  ; nay,  it  rather  proves  that  they  always  exist, 
although  the  moral  judgment  may  not  be  enlightened  enough  to 
apply  them  to  all  the  practice  of  life.  These  notions,  moreover, 
are  accompanied  with  a moral  emotion,  which,  while  it  gives  us  a 
profound  admiration  for  what  is  purely  disinterested,  acts  as  an 
imperative,  that  becomes  more  and  more  powerful,  in  proportion  to 
the  greater  development  of  the  moral  faculty ; ever  inciting  us  to 
the  avoidance  of  evil,  and  the  constant  pursuit  of  good.  The 
whole  phenomena  of  our  disinterested  feelings  ; the  admiration  and 
enthusiasm  we  necessarily  feel  in  the  contemplation  of  any  lofty  ex- 
amples of  them,  an  enthusiam  which  rises  higher  just  in  proportion, 
not  to  the  utility,  but  to  the  sacrifice  which  accompanies  their  exer- 
cise ; the  entire  absorption  which  such  instances  manifest  in  the 
rectitude  of  the  action,  to  the  utter  neglect  of  the  suffering  which 
mgiy  accrue — all  point  us  to  a class  of  moral  sentiments,  to  which 
the  notion  of  our  physical  preservation  has  not  the  very  slightest 
z’esemblance. 

The  ultimate  aim,  however,  of  these  lofty  and  disinterested  moral 
feelings,  is  fully  developed  only  in  our  religious  nature,  pointing  us, 
as  it  does,  to  a class  of  duties,  altogether  beyond  the  sphere  of  our 
present  life,  and  to  a destiny  extending  itself  into  the  immeasurable 
futurity.  The  ideological  philosophy,  in  the  hands  of  Volney,  was 
professedly  an  atheistical  one.  Instead  of  attempting  to  account 
for  the  universality  of  the  religious  emotions,  it  derided  them  ; and 
when  it  found  the  arguments  by  which  their  validity  was  sustained 
to  be  unanswerable,  it  deemed  it  convenient  to  enstamp  all  religious 
actions  and  feelings  as  those,  which  were  only  fit  for  dupes,  or  pan- 
derers  to  the  profit  of  a knavish  priesthood.  To  answer  such  argu- 
ments as  these,  we  have  neither  space  nor  inclination,  as  it  would 
be  reasoning  against  a private  hostility  to  religion,  rather  than  a 
philosophical  objection.  Whatever  system  of  religion  he  might 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


351 


adopt,  unquestionably  a true  philosopher,  who  would  give  an  ac- 
count of  all  the  elements  of  human  nature,  must  not  leave  out,  or  dis- 
miss with  an  incredulous  smile,  those  deep  sentiments  and  impulses 
of  a spiritual  kind,  which  have  played  so  immense  a part  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world,  which  have  given  to  humanity  its  greatestforce  in 
every  vast  achievement,  and  lent  it,  as  we  think,  its  greatest  glory. 

The  most  purely  abstract  idea,  perhaps,  which  we  can  take  of 
man  is,  that  he  is  a force  or  a power  sent  into  the  universe  to  act 
its  part  on  the  stage  of  being.  The  sensationalist  views  him  as  a 
mechanical  force,  created  by  chance,  seeking  simply  the  preserva- 
tion of  its  orgaiiism,  and  accomplishing  the  destiny  of  a nature, 
which  strange  to  say,  never  had  an  intelligent  designer.  A more 
enlarged  philosophy  views  him  as  an  intellectual  and  a moral  force, 
formed  by  the  Being  who  is  the  centre  and  source  of  all  intelli- 
gence, and  all  goodness,  and  endowed  for  the  present  with  an  or- 
ganization adapted  to  the  material  world  around  him.  The  great 
aim  of  his  being,  in  this  view  of  it,  is  to  develop  more  and  more 
the  intellectual  and  moral  energy  of  which  his  real  and  essential 
nature  consists ; to  defend  the  body  indeed,  as  the  organ  of  its  pres- 
ent manifestation,  but  as  it  dies  away,  to  prepare  for  a higher  mani- 
festation of  intelligence  and  virtue,  to  which  his  religious  aspira- 
tions had  been  ever  tending,  and  where  his  highest  desires  will  be 
ultimately  fulfilled. 

Before  we  take  our  leave,  however,  of  the  ideological  philosophy, 
we  must  mention  a far  more  recent  effort,  which  has  been  made, 
both  to  advocate  its  principles,  and  to  furnish  them  with  additional 
proofs  and  illustrations.  I refer  to  the  works  of  Dr.  Broussais  pub- 
lished about  the  year  1828,  one  of  which  is  entitled,  “ Traite  de 
Physiologic  appliquee  a la  Pathologic,”  and  another,  “ De  flrritation 
et  de  la  Folie,  ouvrage,  dans  lequel  les  Rapports  du  Physique  et  du 
Moral  sont  etablis  sur  les  Bases  de  la  Medecine  Physiologique.” 
These  works  are  by  no  means  the  productions  of  a philosopher,  but 
rather  of  a physician,  who,  having  devoted  his  life  entirely  to  the 
observation  of  pathological  and  physiological  phenomena,  discov- 
ers in  them,  as  he  imagines,  the  theory  of  all  the  mental  and  moral 
manifestations  of  which  man  is  the  subject.*  In  this  view  his  aim 

* Broussais’  life  was  eventful.  He  was  born  near  St.  Malo,  1773,  and  after  a wild- 
spent  youth,  studied  medicine  at  Brest.  On  completing  his  term  of  study,  he  spent 
some  years  at  sea,  as  surgeon  to  various  ships  of  war.  In  1799,  he  went  to  Paris, 
where  he  prosecuted  his  studies  with  great  ardor,  and  took  his  doctor’s  degree.  Soon 
after  he  attached  himself  to  the  French  array,  and  travelled  in  company  with  the  troops 
of  Napoleon,  through  the  greater  part  of  Europe.  In  1814,  he  was  appointed  professor 
in  the  military  hospital  at  Paris,  where  he  remained  till  his  death,  which  took  place  in 
the  year  1838. 


352 


MODERN  rillLOSOPHY. 


coincides  with  that  of  Cabanis,  although  his  ability  for  carrying  it 
out  was  not  by  any  means  so  great ; and  in  addition  to  this,  the 
style  of  invective  in  which  he  sometimes  indulges  against  the  spir- 
itualists, gives  to  his  writings  a very  unphilosophical  aspect.  To 
enter  minutely  into  the  various  physiological  theories  he  propounds  ; 
into  his  attempts  to  determine  the  seat  of  the  different  mental  or 
moral  powers  ; into  his  disquisitions  upon  irritation  and  the  physical 
causes  of  madness,  would  require  the  knowledge  peculiar  to  those 
of  his  own  profession.  This  is,  however,  the  less  necessary,  be- 
cause whatever  theory  may  be  advocated  to  account  for  such  phe- 
nomena, upon  physical  principles,  it  does  not  by  any  means  set  us 
at  rest  upon  the  higher  psychological  questions,  to  which  intel- 
lectual philosophy  gives  its  chief  attention.  The  following  will 
give  a general  idea  of  his  theory  of  mental  phenomena. 

Sensation,  according  to  the  last  work  above  referred  to,  consists 
in  a ch'cle  of  irritation  or  excitation,  which  traverses  the  human 
system  from  the  brain  to  the  extremities  of  the  nerves.  Of  this 
irritation,  sensibility  is  the  direct  result.  Perception,  again,  is  an 
excitation  of  the  cerebral  matter  ; and  from  this  it  is  affirmed,  all 
the  phenomena  of  intellection  may  be  shown  to  spring.  The  emo- 
tions originate  in  like  manner, — “elles  viennent  toujours  d’une 
stimulation  de  rappareil  nerveux  du  percevant.”  Thus,  in  fact, 
we  have  in  Broussais  the  doctrine  of  Cabanis  modified  by  a pecul- 
iar theory  of  irritation  ; a theory  on  which  he  laid  great  stress, 
as  being  a most  important  discovery.  In  the  second  edition  of 
his  work  on  the  “ Rapports  du  Physique  et  du  Moral,”  Broussais 
avowed  himself  on  the  side  of  phrenology,  and  by  combining  the 
methods  of  reasoning  employed  respectively  by  Cabanis  and  Gall, 
sought  to  render  his  positions  impregnable.  It  must  be  confessed, 
however,  that  in  taking  this  course  he  was  simply  attempting  to 
find  appliances  to  maintain  a bad  cause.  We  have  shown  already, 
in  the  case  of  phrenology,  that  no  analysis  of  our  intellectual  or 
active  powers,  and  no  valid  explanation  of  our  fundamental  ideas, 
can,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  flow  from  the  method  of  investi- 
gation it  adopts,  inasmuch  as  our  mental  phenomona  must  have 
been  already  duly  considered,  before  any  relation  could  be  observed 
betv/een  them  and  the  different  portions  of  the  brain.  In  like  man- 
ner, whatever  system,  different  from  phrenology,  be  employed  to 
account  for  the  facts  of  consciousness  upon  physical  principles, 
still  there  is  the  same  necessity  for  metaphysical  research,  before 
anything  can  be  distinctly  known  of  those  mental  processes  which 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


353 


we  have  to  explain.  With  regard  to  theories  of  irritations  or  of 
vibrations,  or  of  any  similar  movements  by  which  materialism  is 
supposed  to  be  rendered  feasible  or  intelligible,  we  have  seen,  in 
our  general  discussion  of  the  materialist  question,  that  such  sys- 
tems at  best  can  be  but  mere  hypotheses  ; that  even  as  hypotheses 
they  do  not  account  for  the  central  force  by  which  the  vital  and 
intellectual  organs  are  continually  put  into  exercise  ; that  they  in 
every  case  confound  the  organ  itself  with  the  real  exciting  cause 
of  the  various  functions ; and,  lastly,  that  they  totally  fail  in  ex- 
plaining the  unity  and  simplicity  of  the  mind,  as  witnessed  by  the 
daily  evidence  of  our  consciousness.* 

With  Broussais  we  may  consider,  that  the  efforts  of  ideology 
cease.  Many,  it  is  true,  may  still  hold  the  principles  it  has  sup- 
ported ; but  none,  that  we  are  aware  of,  are  now  to  be  found,  who 
are  able  or  ready  to  maintain  them  on  broad  metaphysical  grounds,  f 

The  most  complete  and  able  attempts  which  France  has  made 
during  the  present  century  to  uphold  sensational  principles,  are, 
without  doubt,  to  be  found  in  this  ideological  school,  which  we  have 
just  been  reviewing.  At  the  same  time,  there  have  been  some  few 
other  manifestations  of  a completely  different  character  and  com-’ 
plexion,  which,  as  belonging  to  the  sensational  philosophy  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  it  would  be  wrong  to  pass  by  unnoticed.  We 
must  not  forget,  for  instance,  that  the  originator  of  the  phrenolog- 
ical system.  Dr.  Gall,  though  a German  by  birth,  published  his 
researches  chiefly  in  the  French  language  ; and  that,  whatever 
honor  may  be  due  to  the  school  at  large,  at  the  head  of  which  he 
stands,  it  must  be  mainly  attributed  to  the  industry  and  intelligence 
with  which  he  pursued  the  subject  in  all  its  different  bearings. 
Gall  died  in  the  year  1828,  leaving  behind  him  the  reputation  of 
being  an  earnest  and  sincere  searcher  after  truth  ; and  though  de- 
cried by  many,  as  being  grossly  materialistic  in  his  views,  yet  it 
is  by  no  means  evident  that  he  really  intended  to  advocate  mate- 
rialism, while  it  is  quite  certain  that  he  strongly  repelled  the  charges 
of  fatalism  and  immorality,  which  were  attributed  to  his  opinions. 

Another  erratic  genius  who  shone  with  some  brilliancy  for  a 
time  in  the  hemisphere  of  French  philosophy,  appeared  in  the  per- 
son of  Azai's.  His  object  was  not  merely  to  discuss  the  phenom- 

* For  critiques  on  Broussais’  principles,  see  Damiron’s  “ Essai  sur  I’Histoire  de  la 
Phil.”  vol.  i.  p.  163  ; and,  still  better,  Tissot’s  “ Anthropologie,”  vol.  ii.  chap.  ii.  sec.  3. 

f M.  Magendie  stands  on  the  side  of  the  materialists,  and  has  attempted  to  explain, 
on  physical  principles,  the  “Rapports  du  Physique  et  du  Moral but  he  is  entirely  a 
physiologist,  and  by  no  means  a philosopher. 

23 


354 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ena  of  mind,  but  rather  to  embrace  the  whole  universe  in  the  grasp 
of  his  philosophical  system.  The  Lectures  he  delivered  about  the 
year  1809,  abounding  at  once  with  ease  and  elegance,  gave  great 
popularity  to  his  opinions,  which  were  soon  further  developed  and 
discussed  in  three  different  works,  entitled  respectively,  “ Cours  de 
Philosophic  Generale,”  “ Precis  du  Systeme  Universel,”  and  “I’Ex- 
plication  Universel.”  To  give  an  adequate  description  of  the 
theories  contained  in  these  voluminous  works,  would  be  a task  by 
no  means  brief,  and  far  from  easy  ; but  we  refer  the  curious  reader 
to  an  elaborate  article  in  the  “Journal  des  Debats”  of  the  5 th  of 
November  1824,  a translation  from  which  will  be  found  in  a Note 
at  the  end  of  this  volume.* 

The  only  name  which  we  have  now  further  to  adduce  as  be- 
longing to  the  school  of  French  sensationalism,  is  that  of  M.  Comte, 
whose  brilliant  scientific  genius  has  raised  him  to  the  very  highest 
rank  of  modern  authors,  and  given  him  a reputation  not  confined 
to  France,  but  as  extensive  as  the  cultivation  of  philosophy  itself. 
M.  Comte  was  originally  an  offspring  of  the  school  of  Saint  Simon, 
and  in  some  respects  has  ever  retained  an  affinity  with  the  doc- 
trines of  that  remarkable  sect ; yet  his  profound  researches  in 
science,  and  his  independence  of  mind  as  a thinker,  have  given  him 
a position  far  beyond  that  of  a mere  partisan  to  any  system  of  phi- 
losophy whatever.  LTp  to  the  year  1816,  he  was  a teacher  in  the 
Polytechnic  School  at  Paris : on  relinquishing  his  more  regular 
duties  there,  he  devoted  ten  years  of  his  life  to  the  preparation  of 
a course  of  lectures  on  Positive  Philosophy : these  he  delivered  in 
1829,  before  an  audience  at  Paris,  comprehending  many  of  the 
most  eminent  philosophers  of  the  country,  and  has  since  re-elabo- 
rated and  published. 

To  enter  into  the  idea  of  the  Positive  philosophy,  we  must  attend 
for  a moment  to  the  estimate  which  M.  Comte  has  made  of  the 
present  condition  of  human  knowledge,  as  it  appears  upon  the 
stage  of  European  civilization.  All  knowledge  which  aims  at  gen- 
erality, he  considers  to  be  at  present  in  an  utterly  disjointed  state. 
Systems  of  philosophy  there  are  in  abundance,  and  religions  more 
than  enough,  but  all  are  for  the  most  part  in  contradiction  with 
each  other,  so  that  in  matter'of  fact,  the  whole  sum  of  knowledge 
they  pretend  to  convey,  is  by  one  or  another  of  them  repudiated 
and  denied.  The  reason  of  this  confusion  may  be  twofold.  Either 
the  mind  of  man  may  be  searching  for  truth  beyond  the  legitimate 
* Vide  Note  C in  the  Appendix. 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


355 


region  of  its  actual  knowledge,  or  it  may  not  take  a sufficiently 
comprehensive  view  of  that  truth,  which  really  does  lie  within  its 
grasp.  The  Positive  philosophy  essays  to  overcome  these  hin- 
drances to  the  march  of  science ; it  undertakes  to  dismiss  all  the 
absolute  ideas,  all  the  a pi-iori  conceptions,  all  the  theological  chi- 
meras which  have  fettered  the  human  reason  hitherto,  and  by  com- 
pleting the  sum  of  the  positive  sciences,  to  rise  by  a purely  experi- 
mental pathway  at  the  lofty  elevation  of  a universal  philosophy.* 

To  establish  the  justice  of  these  views  upon  the  present  state  of 
human  knowledge,  and  confirm  our  hope  in  the  new  organum,  M. 
Comte  attempts  to  grasp  the  great  law  of  human  progress — the 
principle  by  which  knowledge  has  developed  itself  along  the  path- 
way of  the  ages.  This  law  of  progress  is  discovered  in  the  fact, 
that  the  human  intellect  in  the  case  of  individual  nations,  as  well 
as  of  humanity  at  large,  passes  through  three  distinct  stages — the 
theological,  the  metaphysical,  and  the  positive.  In  his  more  infan- 
tile and  simple  state,  man  reposes  implicit  faith  in  the  supernatural ; 
all  the  operations  of  nature  have  their  appropriate  deities,  and  its 
secrets  can  only  be  unfolded  by  a Divine  communication.  The 
highest  form  of  this  conception  is  monotheism,  in  which  we  see  the 
transition  from  the  age  of  theology  to  that  of  metaphysics.  In  the 
metaphysical  age,  the  mind  having  elevated  itself  beyond  the  reach 
of  superstition,  regards  the  phenomena  of  the  universe  not  as  the 
interventions  of  Deity,  but  as  implying  the  existence  of  real  enti- 
ties and  metaphysical  forces.  These  speculations  again  terminate 
in  the  universal  idea  of  nature,  as  the  unity  of  those  abstract  agen- 
cies, which  are  falsely  imagined  to  have  a real  concrete  existence. 
So  far,  then,  we  see  the  human  reason  groping  for  truth  in  a region 
beyond  the  limits  in  which  truth  can  be  scanned.f  Amidst  these 
feeble  endeavors,  however,  we  note  the  rise  of  a scientific  method, 
which,  by  the  certainty  of  its  conclusions  and  the  brilliancy  of  its 
discoveries,  stands  in  striking  contrast  with  the  systems  we  have 
before  described.  This  method  is  the  positive — a system  of  philos- 
ophy which,  basing  itself  entirely  upon  palpable  facts,  and  ignor- 
ing everything  beyond  them,  raises  itself  to  the  perception  of  the 
laws  of  the  universe,  and  strives  to  include  them  all  under  one  vast 
but  certain  generalization.  All  the  sciences,  according  to  Comte, 
invariably  pass  through  this  triple  process.  Some  of  them,  such  as 
astronomy,  physics,  and  chemistry,  have  already  arrived  at  the 

* Gouts  de  Phil.  Pos. — Seethe  “ Considerations  Generales  sur  la  Nature  et  I’lmport- 
ance  de  la  Phil.  Positive.”  Vol.  i.  lec.  i ; also  vcl.  iv.  lees.  46  and  47. 

f Cours  de  Phil.  Pos.  vol.  i.  p.  3 — 7,  and  more  fully  in  Lectures  23  to  56. 

# 


356 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


positive  stage ; others  of  them,  such  as  physiology,  or  as  it  is  here 
termed,  biology,  have  only  attained  their  second  period  of  develop- 
ment, while  the  whole  science  of  humanity  (sociology)  is  yet  in  its 
first  era — every  theory  hitherto  propounded  being  hampered  with 
tlie  false  idea  of  a providence  and  a God.* 

Having  thus  defined  and  settled  the  limits  of  the  human  reason, 
M.  Comte  next  proposes  to  make  our  knowledge  general  and  com- 
plete, by  exhibiting  the  co-ordination  of  the  sciences,  and  thus 
rising  by  degrees  to  the  summit  of  the  pyramid.  The  classification 
given  us  of  the  sciences  at  large,  and  their  regular  order  of  devel- 
opment, is  unquestionably  a masterpiece  of  scientific  thinking,  as 
simple  as  it  is  comprehensive.  In  studying  the  nature  and  relation 
of  facts  (for  such  is  the  whole  province  of  the  Positive  philosophy), 
the  human  mind  begins  with  those  which  are  at  once  the  most 
simple  and  the  most  general — those,  namely,  of  number  or  mathe- 
matics. Closely  connected  with  numerical  relations,  at  the  first 
remove  above  pure  arithmetical  abstractions,  are  those  which  refer 
to  the  properties  of  space — the  facts  with  which  geometry  is  con- 
versant ; and  next  above  them  mechanics,  rationally  considered. 
These,  then,  form  together  the  first  or  lowest  rank  in  the  co-ordi- 
nation of  the  sciences. 

Having  iiwestigated  the  phenomena  of  number  and  space,  we 
are  in  a condition  to  enter  upon  the  higher  investigation  of  matter, 
which  we  find  appears  in  its  most  simple  and  least  complicated 
form  in  the  science  of  astronomy.  There  it  is  that  we  see  the 
great  primary  laws  and  movements  of  the  material  universe  on  a 
gigantic  and  imposing  scale. 

Descending  from  this  general  view  of  the  properties  of  matter 
to  the  surface  of  our  globe,  we  next  carry  our  researches  into  the 
department  of  terrestrial  physics,  in  which  the  results  are  indeed 
less  definite  and  general  than  in  astronomy,  but  far  more  rich  and 
diversified. 

The  fourth  step  brings  us  into  the  department  of  chemistry. 
Here  we  have  to  observe  the  still  more  obscure  and  recondite 
movements  of  physical  agencies,  working  and  interworking  with 
each  other,  until  we  are  brought  up  to  the  point,  where  the  mere 
dynamical  phenomena  cease,  and  the  wonders  of  organization 
commence. 

The  fifth  place,  then,  in  the  rank  of  the  sciences,  is  Biology,  a 
branch  which  includes  all  the  phenomena  of  life,  from  the  lowest 

♦ Vol.  i.  lec.  ii.  ‘ Sur  la  Hierarchic  des  Sciences  Positives.” 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


357 


vegetable  productions  up  to  the  highest  organic  structure  as  seen 
in  man.  Here  the  complication  and  diversity  of  the  facts  pre- 
sented become  vastly  exaggerated,  and  the  science  itself  rendered 
proportionally  difficult  and  tardy  in  its  development. 

The  last  and  top-stone  of  this  magnificent  evidence  is  Sociology, 
the  science  of  man,  as  he  has  appeared  on  the  stage  of  history 
from  remote  ages  to  the  present  time.  Here  we  arrive  at  the  great 
term  of  human  knowledge ; the  chasm  between  the  science  of 
mind,  and  all  the  rest,  is  filled  up  ; and  thus,  by  the  completion  of 
our  positive  knowledge,  we  rise  to  the  attainment  of  ideas,  which, 
with  all  the  certainty  of  experimental  truth,  unite  all  the  generality 
of  metaphysical  research.  Who  can  fail  to  observe  and  admire 
the  perfect  harmony  of  truth  as  here  exhibited?  Commencing 
with  the  most  abstract  region  of  our  knowledge,  we  see  one  rank 
arising  above  the  other,  each  diminishing  in  certainty  and  general- 
ity as  it  increases  in  richness  and  complexity,  until  the  whole  cir- 
cuit is  completed,  the  highest  region  won,  and  all  the  sciences 
linked  together  by  the  harmonious  order  in  which  they  are  devel- 
oped, by  the  onward  march  of  humanity  towards  the  completion 
of  truth. 

Such  is  the  general  outline  of  M.  Comte’s  theory,  which  we  at 
once  perceive  to  be  an  enormous  system  of  materialism,  grounded 
upon  great  research,  and  supported  by  all  the  aids,  which  physical 
science,  with  its  latest  improvements,  can  present.  All  philos- 
ophy, according  to  this  system,  rests  upon  the  observation  of  out- 
ward facts.  In  physics  we  observe  the  facts  of  the  material 
world,  in  physiology  the  phenomena  of  life,  and  in  social  physics 
the  historical  facts  of  man’s  intellectual  being ; the  great  and  sole 
object  of  philosophy  being  to  classify  and  arrange  these  objects  so 
as  to  discover  the  laws  of  their  progress,  and  bring  those  laws  to 
their  highest  possible  generalization.  This,  it  is  affirmed,  has  been 
accomplished  by  exhibiting  the  co-ordination  of  the  sciences,  and 
by  deducing  the  one  great  law  of  man’s  intellectual  development. 
On  this  system  we  remark — 

1.  Supposing  the  theory  for  a moment  to  be  correct,  and  allow- 
ing that,  to  account  for  the  intellectual  phenomena  of  mankind, 
we  have  succeeded  in  bringing  to  light  the  threefold  process  above 
explained,  still  we  are  far  from  having  reached  a firm  and  satisfac- 
tory resting  place.  Admit  that  every  science  goes  through  its 
theological,  its  metaphysical,  and  its  positive  era  ; why,  we  ask,  is 
this  wonderful  law  of  development  in  operation  ? Is  it  by  chance 


358 


MODERN  riHLOSOPHY. 


that  humanity  is  so  formed  ? Is  it  by  some  primaeval  fate  that 
things  should  take  such  a direction  ? If  there  be  a law,  surely 
there  must  be  a lawgiver.  If  there  is  a majestic  plan  by  which 
mankind  marches  on  to  its  destiny,  something  or  other  must  have 
caused  it.  If  history  be  so  glorious  a drama,  some  mind  has  cer- 
tainly planned  it,  and  watched  over  its  execution.  To  eliminate  a 
law  magnificent  in  its  I’esults,  and  then  to  deny  any  intelligent  prin- 
ciple from  which  it  proceeded,  can  only  be  the  part  of  determined 
prejudice  or  egregious  trifling  with  the  highest  truths.  But — 

2.  This  law,  so  greatly  extolled,  has  in  fact  only  a very  partial 
truth  about  it.  That  some  of  the  natural  sciences  have  passed 
through  the  three  stages  described,  may  be  readily  admitted,  with- 
out for  a moment  supposing  that  the  two  former  elements  are  in- 
tended to  be  eventually  merged  in  the  latter.  Theology  and  met- 
aphysics form  as  necessary  portions  of  our  intellectual  life,  as  does 
positive  science.  Their  proper  sphere  may  become  more  accu- 
rately defined  as  knowledge  increases,  but  never  can  the  one  be 
absorbed  in  any  of  the  others.  The  reason  of  man  ever  strives, 
and  will  strive  after  some  fixed  and  absolute  reality  ; and  his 
moral  nature  will  ever  pant  after  the  divine.  While  here  and 
there  a grovelling  spirit  will  sink  itself  in  the  earthly  and  material, 
giving  itself  wholly  up  to  the  life  of  sense,  the  perpetual  tendency 
of  mankind  at  large  (and  this  is  our  highest  appeal)  is  to  seek  a 
reality  beneath  the  fleeting  phenomena  around  them,  and  to  be- 
lieve, with  unwavering  faith,  that  the  world  sprung  from  a Creator, 
man  from  a God. 

3.  Positivism  in  denying  the  possibility  of  a mental  philosophy, 
at  the  same  time  supposes  a mental  theory  of  its  own.  The  in- 
ternal facts  of  consciousness  do  not  come  under  those  sensuous 
manifestations  to  which  the  positive  philosopher  alone  appeals  ; 
the  only  knowledge  he  pretends  to  have  of  the  human  mind  is  de- 
rived either  from  the  actions  of  mankind  or  tlie  construction  of 
the  brain.  But  we  would  ask — is  it  the  same  thing  to  observe  the 
outward  actions  of  a man,  and  to  consider  the  mental  processes 
from  which  they  spring?  or  is  it  the  same  thing  to  note  the  or- 
gans of  the  cerebral  hemispheres,  and  to  classify  our  powers,  fac- 
ulties, desires  and  emotions  ? To  maintain  this,  involves  a theory 
of  mind  far  more  untenable,  as  we  have  before  shown,  than  that 
which  the  positivist  denounces  as  dark  and  unintelligible  ; and 
even  this  theory  itself  cannot  exist  without  the  aid  of  those  very 
facts  of  consciousness,  which  are  so  thoughtlessly  disowned.  Ex- 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


359 


ternal  facts  can  never  reveal  to  us  any  law  or  phenomenon  of 
mind,  until  reflection  has  in  our  own  case,  made  the  inward  world 
clear  to  our  understanding,  and  given  us  a psychology  to  start 
with.  The  procedure  of  positivism  with  regard  to  psychology, 
therefore,  is  to  cancel  o-penly  a whole  world  of  positive  facts,  and 
then  tacitly  to  admit  them  in  the  construction  of  its  own  material 
theory.  If  we  are  at  liberty  to  deal  with  facts  in  this  manner, 
any  theory  we  choose  may  be  easily  maintained. 

4.  The  great  opposition  of  the  positive  philosophy,  however,  is 
aimed  mainly  against  the  existence  of  necessary  truth — of  absolute 
ideas.  Here,  however,  we  have  the  same  spectacle  repeated  as  in 
the  case  above  mentioned  ; we  have  absolute  ideas  denied  in  one 
breath,  and  then  employed  in  the  next.  M.  Comte  is  a great 
mathematician  ; and  to  give  a coloring  to  his  theory  he  speaks  of 
^Qom&ixicaX  phenomena,  as  though  the  fundamental  conceptions  of 
mathematical  truth  were  mere  sensuous  images.  Space,  number, 
time,  perfect  geometrical  figures  and  ideas,  all  these  may,  indeed, 
be  phenomena  to  the  human  reason,  but  they  are  phenomena 
which  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  senses.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  many  other  conceptions.  Take  the  idea  of  law,  an  idea 
on  which  the  positive  philosophy  is  itself  grounded ; is  it  not  the 
conception  of  something  fixed,  unalterable,  necessary?  Take 
away  its  fixed  and  absolute  character,  and  it  will  serve  as  a fun- 
damental law  no  longer.  Take  the  idea  of  substance — its  denial 
virtually  annihilates  the  world,  and  involves  us  in  the  very  depths 
of  a scepticism,  against  which  the  universal  reason  of  mankind 
eternally  protests.  Take  the  idea  of  cause — and  here  also  we  find 
a conception,  which,  so  long  as  the  human  will  exists,  breaks  down 
every  attempt  to  reduce  all  nafure  and  all  being  to  an  uncon- 
nected series  of  individual  facts.  Take,  in  fine,  the  idea  of  duty, 
and  it  is  there  alone  that  we  can  find  a basis  for  all  the  moral 
phenomena  of  humanity  at  large.  Every  system  of  philosophy, 
every  abstract  science,  though  it  should  exclaim  aloud  against  the 
admission  of  absolute  ideas,  yet  tacitly  avails  itself  of  them  as  the 
very  foundation  on  which  it  reposes. 

5.  Finally,  even  supposing  the  positive  system  could  succeed  in 
freeing  itself  from  these  charges,  and  could  really  accomplish  all  it 
professes — what  would  be  gained  by  it  after  all — or  rather,  we 
might  say,  what  expectations  would  not  be  lost.  Positivism,  while 
it  seems  to  proffer  a boon  with  one  hand,  yet  with  the  other  throws 
an  impenetrable  veil  over  everything  which  it  most  concerns  us  to 


360 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


know  and  to  feel.  What  does  it  tell  us  of  nature  ? Nothing.  It 
merely  points  out  to  us  a huge  piece  of  machinery,  and  attempts 
to  discover  the  laws  of  its  operation ; but  it  speaks  not  of  its  origin 
— of  its  significancy — of  its  destination ; it  throws  no  light  upon 
the  forms  of  beauty  it  exhibits,  “upon  the  divine  ideas  it  unfolds, 
upon  the  moral  influences  it  conveys  to  that  highest  of  all  terres- 
trial creations — the  human  soul.  What  does  it  tell  us  of  humanity  ? 
Nothing.  It  explains  not  why  we  exist — it  tells  us  not  whither  we 
are  tending.  The  problem  of  moral  evil  is  left  a dark  and  cheer- 
less mystery ; while  the  anticipations  of  the  good  are  all  buried  in 
the  sepulchre  of  a stern  and  rugged  materialism.  What  does  it 
tell  us  of  freedom,  of  conscience,  of  accountability,  of  immortality  ? 
Nothing.  Human  freedom  sinks  into  the  law  of  a fixed  and  un- 
changeable necessity — conscience  is  never  allowed  to  testify  of  an 
eternal  justice  to  which  the  oppressed  may  ever  appeal,  and  upon 
whose  decisions  the  righteous  may  rely  for  their  ultimate  vindica- 
tion— wisdom  and  goodness,  as  possessed  by  man,  cannot  look  be- 
yond their  own  present  imperfection,  to  a perfect  wisdom,  an 
unsullied  purity,  to  which  we  are  ever  tending — nor  can  hope 
whisper  the  thought,  that  there  is  a life  beyond  life,  that  the  intel- 
ligence which  gazes  into  the  dim  futurity,  and  the  aspirations  which 
long  for  an  eternal  home,  are  any  other  than  delusions — at  once 
our  glory  and  our  curse.  Finally,  what  does  it  tell  us  of  God  ? 
Again  the  answer  we  receive  is  nothing.  Formerly  it  was  said, 
exclaims  M.  Comte,  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God ; but 
now  they  only  recount  the  glory  of  Newton  and  Laplace  : nay,  the 
conceptions  of  the  atheistic  astronomers  of  France,  are  declared  to 
be  far  more  perfect  than  those  which  the  universe  itself  has  been 
able  to  realize.  “ These  heavens,  this  harmonious  universe,”  says 
M.  Saisset,  “ which  filled  the  mind  of  Newton,  of  Kepler,  of  Lin- 
naeus, with  religious  enthusiasm,  MM.  Comte  and  Littre  consider 
to  be  imperfectly  constructed ; they  so  far  forget  themselves,  as  to 
say  that  the  universe  exhibits  a degree  of  wisdom  inferior  to  that 
which  man  possesses,  and  that  it  is  easy  in  the  detail,  as  well  as  in 
the  whole,  to  conceive  one  far  better.  What ! has  the  nature  of 
things  been  so  clumsy,  and  so  little  consistent  with  itself?  has  it 
been  able  to  people  space  with  infinite  worlds,  and  make  to  circu- 
late through  all  existence  the  torrents  of  life ; and  yet  has  it  not 
been  able  to  give  them  laws  sufficiently  reasonable  to  secure  the 
approbation  of  one  of  its  innumerable  creatures  ? What ! can  it 
produce  the  very  intelligence  of  these  two  philosophers,  and  yet 


SENSATIONALISM  IN  FRANCE. 


361 


not  equal  it  in  its  plans  and  combinations  ? That  which  MM. 
Comte  and  Littre,  forsooth,  conceive  in  their  study,  that  which, 
according  to  their  own  theory,  germinates  in  the  brain  of  these 
two  feeble  organic  machines  destined  to  endure  but  for  a day,  is 
more  reasonable,  more  beautiful,  more  harmonious,  than  the  system 
of  existence  which  nature  realizes  in  its  eternal  evolution  athwart 
the  immensity !” 

With  all  the  admiration  we  cannot  but  have  for  our  author’s 
brilliant  scientific  genius,  we  cannot  but  deplore  the  illusions  which 
such  minds,  charmed  with  a theory,  and  absorbed  in  the  investiga;- 
tion  of  the  visible  alone,  gradually  practise  upon  themselves.  M. 
Comte  admits  that  the  stability  of  the  solar  system  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  the  preservation  of  all  animal  existence ; but  instead 
of  seeing  any  design  in  this  beautiful  adaptation  of  things  to  an 
end,  he  attempts  to  show  that  such  stability  is  but  the  natural  re- 
sult of  the  mechanical  laws,  by  which  the  heavenly  bodies  perform 
their  movements  ; and  this  is  his  substitute  for  a God ! But  here 
just  as  much  is  left  to  account  for  as  before ; nay,  go  back  as  we 
may,  resolving  phenomena  after  phenomena  into  their  simpler  laws, 
yet  there  is  just  as  much  necessity  as  ever  for  us  to  assume  the 
existence  of  a great  first  cause,  unless  we  choose  to  subvert  all  the 
indestructible  notions  upon  which  we  are  obliged  to  act  in  all  the 
practical  affairs  of  life.  Every  action  of  the  body,  every  effort  of 
the  mind,  every  volition  of  whatever  kind,  reveals  to  our  con- 
sciousness the  notion  of  a spiritual  power,  from  which  the  source 
of  our  own  action  proceeds.  Starting  from  this  inward  revela- 
tion, the  reason  of  mankind  cannot  gaze  upon  the  phenomena  of 
the  universe,  without  assigning  a spiritual  power  of  infinite  gran- 
deur as  the  “ primum  mobile”  of  the  whole.  As  w'ell  can  we  deny 
self,  the  cause  of  our  own  actions,  as  deny  God,  the  cause  of  the 
kosmos,  the  universe  of  order  around  us.  This  first  step,  that  of 
the  real  existence  of  a supreme  being,  the  source  of  law,  being  ex- 
torted, the  keystone  to  a system  of  mechanical  materialism,  such 
as  that  contained  in  the  “ Course  of  Positive  Philosophy,”  is  taken 
away ; its  massive  structure  crumbles  piecemeal  before  the  force 
of  spiritual  truth,  and  with  it  the  immortal  hopes  and  aspirations 
of  our  nature  return  to  smile  upon  the  path  of  human  life. 

We  only  quote,  in  conclusion,  the  beautiful  language  of  a re- 
viewer well  able  to  appreciate  the  merits  as  well  as  the  errors  of 
the  positive  philosophy  : — “ Had  the  opinions  we  have  been  com- 
bating been  maintained  by  those  rash  speculators,  who  are  per- 


362 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


mitted  at  distant  intervals  to  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  the  religious 
world,  we  should  not  have  allowed  them  to  interfere  with  ours. 
But  when  a work  of  profound  science,  marked  with  great  acute- 
ness of  reasoning,  and  conspicuous  for  the  highest  attributes  of 
intellectual  power — when  such  a work  records  the  dread  senti- 
ment, that  the  universe  displays  no  proofs  of  an  all-directing  mind, 
and  records  it  too  as  the  deduction  of  unbiassed  reason,  the  appal- 
ling note  falls  upon  the  ear  as  like  the  sounds  of  desolation  and  death. 
The  life-blood  of  the  affections  stands  frozen  in  its  strongest  and 
most  genial  current,  and  reason  and  feeling  but  resume  their  as- 
cendency, when  they  have  pictured  the  consequences  of  so  fright- 
ful a delusion.  If  man  is  thus  an  orphan  at  his  birth,  and  an 
outcast  in  his  destiny ; if  knowledge  is  to  be  his  punishment  and 
not  his  pride ; if  all  his  intellectual  achievements  are  to  perish  with 
him  in  the  dust ; if  the  brief  tenure  of  his  being  is  to  be  renounced 
amid  the  wreck  of  vain  desires,  of  blighted  hopes,  and  of  bleed- 
ing affections — then  in  reality,  as  well  as  in  metaphor,  is  life  a 
dream.”* 

* The  above  remarks  apply  to  the  spirit  of  Comte’s  philosophy  as  a vjhole.  No  can- 
did mind  can  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  great  merit  there  is  in  many  of  his  separate 
researches,  both  in  physical  science  and  in  sociology. 


CHAPTER  V. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OP  MODERN  IDEALISM. 

In  tracing  the  progress  of  idealism  from  the  revival  of  modern 
philosophy  to  the  opening  of  the  present  century,  we  described 
four  different  movements  which  it  exhibited  respectively  in  four 
different  parts  of  Europe.  The  French  movement  was  seen  to 
develop  itself  first  in  the  school  of  Descartes,  and  to  evaporate  at 
length  either  into  the  revived  Platonism  of  Malebranche,  or  the 
realistic  pantheism  of  Spinoza.  The  English  idealism,  polemical 
in  its  origin,  and  living  a life  of  contest  rather  than  one  of  calm 
and  lofty  repose,  we  saw  gradually  retiring  before  the  power  of  its 
adversary,  and  ere  the  eighteenth  century  was  ended,  well  nigh 
extinguished  under  the  advancing  sensationalism  of  the  successors 
of  Locke.  The  German  idealism,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  des- 
tined to  realize  nobler  fortunes.  Sent  forth  under  the  auspices  of 
Leibnitz,  the  greatest  scholar  and  perhaps  thinker  of  his  age,  it 
enjoyed,  during  its  infancy,  a prosperous  career  in  connection 
with  the  logical  order  of  the  Wolfian  school ; then,  taking  another 
direction,  it  poured  astonishment  over  Europe,  through  the  works 
of  the  immortal  Kant ; and  at  the  close  of  the  century  only  seemed 
preparing  for  a still  grander  development,  and  a still  bolder  flight. 
Lastly,  the  philosophy  of  Scotland,  although  perhaps  most  vigorous 
and  most  original  when  in  the  hands  of  Reid,  its  real  founder,  yet 
appeared  at  the  close  of  the  last  century  to  promise  for  the  present 
a development  of  its  resources,  in  some  measure  corresponding  to 
the  victory  it  had  already  achieved  over  the  pretensions  of  scep- 
ticism. 

The  two  anti-sensational  forces,  thei’efore,  which  meet  our  view 
on  stepping  over  the  threshold  of  the  nineteenth  century,  are  the 
respective  philosophies  of  Scotland  and  Germany.  Upon  these  it 
devolved  to  carry  on  the  combat  against  the  materialism  of  Eng- 
land and  France;  and  from  these  were  derived  the  fruitful  germs 


364 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  thought,  which  have  now  succeeded  in  producing  a reaction  in 
favor  of  idealism  in  both  those  countries.  In  pursuing,  then,  the 
history  of  the  idealistic  tendency  through  our  own  age,  we  must 
first  look  to  Scotland  and  Germany,  as  the  sources  of  its  chief 
movements ; having  done  this,  we  shall  be  the  better  able  to  esti- 
mate their  efl’ect  upon  our  own  country,  and  their  share  in  the  rise 
of  the  modern  eclecticism  of  France.  This  sketch,  as  far  as  Scot- 
land, Germany,  and  England  are  concerned,  we  shall  assign  to  the 
present  chapter ; the  history  of  modern  eclecticism,  although 
strictly  anti-sensational,  yet,  as  presenting  several  peculiarities, 
we  must  reserve  for  a separate  consideration. 


Sect.  I. — The  Scottish  School  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

The  rise  and  progress  of  the  Scottish  metaphysics  during  the 
last  century  have  been  already  noticed  in  a former  chapter.  Up 
to  the  time  of  Reid,  as  we  then  saw,  the  representationalist  theory 
of  perception,  though  not  in  its  strictly  Aristotelian  form,  was  the 
general  belief  of  the  philosophical  world  ; and  upon  its  foundation 
the  edifice  of  scepticism,  as  erected  by  Berkeley  and  Hume,  mainly 
rested.  Against  this  system  the  philosophy  of  Reid  was  the  natu- 
ral reaction ; and  as  the  eflect  of  all  scepticism  is  to  send  us  back 
again  to  first  principles,  so  it  was  only  a thing  to  be  reasonably 
expected,  that  the  bold  and  sweeping  scepticism  of  Hume  should 
give  rise  to  a proportionally  deep  and  thorough  revision  of  the 
fundamental  principles  of  human  knowledge.  The  key  to  all  that 
Dr.  Reid  ever  wrote  upon  these  topics  may  be  found  in  the  one 
consideration,  that  he  stood  forth  as  the  professed  opponent  of  phil- 
osophical scepticism,  and  had  from  the  first  determined  to  devote 
his  whole  life,  to  tear  up  the  very  deepest  roots  from  which  it 
sprung.  Hence  arose  his  attack  upon  the  doctrine  of  ideas,  as 
being  the  nguiop  i^evdog  of  his  adversaries;  hence  his  opposition 
to  the  empirical  tendency  of  Locke’s  refutation  of  innate  ideas ; 
hence  his  assertion  of  the  immediacy  of  our  knowledge  of  the  ex- 
ternal world  ; hence,  in  a word,  his  principle  of  common  sense,  by 
means  of  which  he  sought  to  enlist  the  universal  consent  of  man’s 
intelligence  against  the  subtle,  and  sweeping  conclusions  of  a false 
philosophy.  The  very  position  in  which  Reid  was  placed,  threw 
him  back  upon  the  only  true  method  of  all  metaphysical  investiga- 
tion, that  of  reflection  and  inward  analysis.  Once  taught  rightly 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


365 


to  interpret  the  observed  facts  of  our  consciousness,  he  found  it  Jio 
insuperable  task  to  overturn  the  false  hypotheses  which  had  up  to 
that  time  held  an  undisputed  place  in  most  metaphysical  systems. 

The  polemical  character,  however,  of  Reid’s  philosophy,  neces- 
sarily gave  it  a peculiarity  unfavorable  to  its  systematic  develop- 
ment. Occupied  as  he  was  in  pulling  down,  he  had  but  little  time 
to  build  up  ; and  even  that  which  he  did  succeed  in  erecting  had 
rather  the  character  of  an  outpost  strongly  placed  to  defend  the 
citadel  of  truth,  than  of  fresh  turrets  tending  to  beautify  or  enlarge 
it.  Moreover,  the  opposition  he  was  called  upon  to  sustain  against 
the  almost  universal  voice  of  authority,  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
philosophies,  naturally  led  him  to  underrate  a correct  knowledge 
of  their  nature  and  history,  and  to  deprive  himself  of  many  of  the 
aids  which  a moi’e  extensive  study  of  the  best  metaphysical  writ- 
ings would  have  afforded.*  All  this  tended  to  give  an  air  of  in- 
completeness to  his  system ; so  much  so  indeed,  that  he  appeared 
before  the  world  not  exactly  as  a philosopher,  but  rather  in  the 
character  of  an  earnest  mind,  contending  only  for  a few  great 
principles  of  truth,  and  willing,  when  those  main  positions  were 
gained,  to  rest  content  with  the  first  great  victory,  and  leave  to 
his  successors  the  task  of  following  it  up  into  all  its  legitimate  con- 
sequences. The  more  immediate  successors  of  Reid,  however, 
failed  to  do  this.  Furnished  with  their  new  philosophical  organon, 
that  of  common  sense,  they  did  little  more  than  celebrate  a kind 
of  perpetual  ovation  over  the  conquest  which  their  great  prede- 
cessor had  by  its  means  achieved ; or,  if  they  ever  attempted 
themselves  to  wield  it  against  other  enemies,  they  did  so  with  far 
less  nerve  and  proportionally  small  success. 

Amongst  the  successors  of  Reid,  however,  there  was  one  disciple, 
inspired  with  profound  Amneration  for  his  master,  and  deeply  im- 
bued with  his  spirit,  who  rose  to  a distinction  far  above  the  rest, 
and  succeeded  in  giving  to  his  country’s  philosophy  a popularity, 
which,  in  the  want  of  some  such  advocate,  it  would,  in  all  proba- 
bility, never  have  obtained.  The  reader  will  at  once  perceive  that 
I refer  to  Dugald  Stewart,  of  whose  writings  we  must  now  take  a 
brief  review. 

This  celebrated  author,  whose  works  form  so  large  an  item  in 
the  philosophical  history  of  Scotland  during  the  present  century, 
Avas  born  in  the  year  1753.  In  1773,  he  became  professor  of 

* Not  that  Reid  was  altogether  insensible  to  the  value  of  the  History  of  Philosophy. 
Indeed,  he  reckons  it  as  one  among  the  proper  means  of  knowing  the  operations  of  the 
human  mind.  “ Intellectual  Powers,”  chap.  v. 


366 


MODERN  I’lIlLOSOPIIY. 


mathematics  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  and  in  1785,  was 
raised  to  the  chair  of  moral  philosophy.  His  first  work,  entitled, 
“ Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,”  was  published 
is  1792,  and  obtained  considerable  celebrity  as  a clear  and  eloquent 
exposition  of  the  philosophy  of  Dr.  Reid.  It  was  translated  into 
French  by  M.  Prevost  of  Geneva,  and  extensively  read  on  the 
Continent  as  well  as  in  our  own  country.  In  the  next  year  he 
published  his  “ Outlines  of  Moral  Philosophy,”  which  comprehended 
the  chief  results  of  the  Scottish  school  on  the  moral  phenomena  of 
the  human  mind,  and  which  have  been  more  recently  translated 
by  M.  Joufiroy,  with  an  invaluable  preface  as  introduction.  In 
the  year  1810,  appeared  his  “ Philosophical  Essays,”  in  which  many 
of  the  points  at  issue  between  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  and  that 
of  Reid,  are  very  clearly  portrayed,  and  a lengthened  disquisition 
added  on  the  philosophy  of  taste.  This  work  was  introduced  to 
the  French  public  by  M.  Huron.  In  the  year  1814,  appeared  the 
second  volume  of  the  “ Elements  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human 
Mind,”  comprehending  his  analysis  of  the  intellectual  powers,  and 
a very  full  exposition  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  human  belief, 
an  expression  which  he  substituted  for  Reid’s  “ Principles  of  Com- 
mon Sense.”  The  next  two  years  were  occupied  in  writing  his 
“ Preliminary  Dissertation  on  the  Progress  of  Metaphysical,  Ethi- 
cal, and  Political  Philosophy,”  the  first  part  of  which  was  published 
in  the  Supplement  to  the  “ Encyclopaedia  Bi’itannica,”  in  the  year 
1816,  the  second  part  in  the  year  1821.  So  clear,  so  elegant,  and 
in  many  respects,  so  learned  is  the  exhibition  there  given  of  the 
gradual  development  of  metaphysical  philosophy  in  Europe,  and  so 
acute  the  strictures  on  the  different  systems  which  it  details,  that 
many  ground  his  chief  claim  to  a lasting  reputation  upon  these 
rather  than  upon  any  of  his  more  systematical  writings.  The  third 
volume  of  the  “ Elements”  was  published  in  the  year  1827,  and  in 
1828,  the  year  of  his  death,  came  out  his  last  work,  entitled,  “Phi- 
losophy of  the  Active,  and  Moral  Powers  of  Man.”* 

Respecting  Stewart’s  ability  as  a writer,  there  never  has  been, 
as  far  as  we  know,  but  one  opinion,  and  that  decidedly  favorable. 
His  reading  upon  all  metaphysical  subjects,  (with  the  exception  of 
the  more  modern  German  philosophy,)  appeared  to  be  almost  as 
extensive  as  the  literature  itself;  his  judgment  upon  the  merits  of 
the  different  authors  was,  for  the  most  part,  clear  and  comprehen- 

♦ The  second  volume  of  the  “ Elements’'  was  translated  into  French  by  M.  Farcy  ; 
the  preliminary  discourse,  by  M.  Buchon ; and  the  “ Philosophy  of  the  Active  and 
Moral  Powers,”  by  MM.  Simon  and  Huron. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


367 


sive  ; his  own  mind  exhibited  all  the  traces  of  the  scholar  and  the 
man  of  taste,  while  his  easy  and  attractive  style  seemed  to  throw 
a charm,  and  an  interest  around  the  most  abstruse  and  forbidding 
subjects.  There  can  be  little  doubt  but  that  the  Scottish  meta- 
physics, while  they  derived  their  bone  and  sinew  from  Dr.  Reid, 
yet  owed  to  the  labors  of  his  successor  all  that  mould  and  symme- 
try, that  order  and  beauty,  which  have  given  them  a popularity 
greater  than  any  philosophical  treatises  in  the  English  language, 
which  have  appeared  in  modern  times. 

To  give  a criticism  on  Stewart’s  philosophy,  as  a whole,  would 
be,  in  fact,  nothing  more  than  to  repeat  what  we  have  already  said 
of  his  predecessor  and  instructor.  Dr.  Reid  ; the  points  in  which  he 
has  departed  from  Reid’s  opinions  being  comparatively  very  few,  and 
those  few  but  of  slight  importance.  It  may  be  useful,  however,  to 
mention  one  or  two  particulars,  in  which  Stewart  may  be  said  to 
have  rendered  essential  service  to  the  philosophy  of  Scotland,  and 
to  have  excelled  all  those  who  preceded  him  in  the  same  de- 
partment. 

1.  He  introduced  many  great  impi'ovements  into  the  metaphys- 
ical j9/i?'«seoZo^y  of  his  school.  The  most  prominent  instance  of 
this  is  seen  in  the  fact  of  his  discarding  the  term  “ principles  of 
common  sense,”  (the  very  term  by  which  Reid  and  his  immediate 
successors  have  chiefly  characterized  their  system,)  and  convey- 
ing the  same  idea  under  the  more  dignified  expression,  “ Fundamen- 
tal Laws  of  Human  Belief.”  The  term,  “ principles  of  common 
sense,”  was  in  many  respects  objectionable : it  appeared  to  place 
common  sense  in  direct  opposition  to  philosophy,  and  by  implica- 
tion, to  assert  that  the  two  were  altogether  irreconcilable.  Stewart 
perceived  the  disadvantage  which  arose  from  this  circumstance, 
and  proceeded  with  a laudable  zeal  to  remove  it. 

To  accomplish  this  end,  he  analyzed  more  closely  than  had  been 
done  before,  the  notions  which  Reid  intended  to  convey  under  the 
ex})ression  itself,  and  showed  that,  properly  speaking,  they  refer  to 
the  primary  elements  of  our  reason,  rather  than,  (as  Reid  implied,) 
to  the  principles  upon  which  reasoning  is  conducted.  Common 
sense,  we  know,  in  the  popular  use  of  the  term,  is  opposed  to  an 
incorrect  and  an  untenable  method  of  inference,  to  the  habit  of 
drawing  false  conclusions,  or  of  admitting  premises  on  slight  evi- 
dence. On  the  other  hand,  the  primary  elements  of  man’s  reason 
are  altogether  of  a different  nature  ; their  absence  would  imply 
absolute  insanity ; so  that,  instead  of  terming  them  principles  of 


368 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


common  sense,  they  should  rather  be  fundamental  laws 

of  human  belief,  without  which  it  were  impossible  for  the  mind  to 
perform  one  of  the  intellectual  operations,  for  which  it  is  destined. 
“ The  former  expression,”  Stewart  remarks,  “ would  only  imply 
that  we  were  apt  to  fall  into  absurdities  and  improprieties  in  the 
common  concerns  of  life  ; but  to  denominate  such  laws  of  belief 
as  we  have  been  considering,  ‘ constituent  elements  of  human  rea- 
son,’ while  it  seems  quite  unexceptionable  in  point  of  technical 
distinctness,  cannot  justly  be  censured  as  the  slightest  deviation 
from  our  habitual  forms  of  speech.”  We  give  this  as  a specimen 
(perhaps  the  most  striking  one  which  could  be  brought  forward) 
of  the  care  which  our  author  bestowed  on  his  philosophical  phrase- 
ology. He  well  knew  that  nothing  tended  so  much  to  raise  met- 
aphysical speculations  above  objections  and  misunderstanding, 
nothing  to  commend  it  so  much  to  the  common  intellect  of  man, 
nothing  so  much  to  place  it  on  a firm  and  lasting  basis,  as  to  clothe 
it  in  distinct,  appropriate,  and  intelligible  language.* 

2.  Another  service  which  Stewart  rendered,  was  to  revise  the 
classification,  which  Reid  had  left  behind  him,  of  the  phenomena 
of  the  human  mind.  The  fundamental  principle  of  classification  is 
the  same  in  each,  that,  namely,  which  divides  all  mental  phenomena 
into  intellectual  and  active  powers.  Under  each  of  these  two  heads 
Reid  drew  out  a long  list  of  faculties  or  feelings,  which  he  too 
hastily  set  down  as  original  and  peculiar  facts  of  our  mental  con- 
stitution, apparently  with  little  attempt  to  resolve  them  into  any 
more  primary  elements.  The  instinctive  principles  especially  were 
very  imperfectly  classified  in  Reid’s  philosophy,  since  they  were 
made  so  numerous  and  complicated,  that  the  effect  was  rather  to 
perplex,  than  to  throw  any  additional  light  upon  the  subject.  Stew- 
art, though  far  from  giving  a classification  which  can  be  considered 
unobjectionable,  yet  thoroughly  revised  that  of  his  predecessor  ; 
applied  to  many  parts  of  it  a closer  and  better  analysis ; and  if  he 
did  not  accomplish  all  that  could  be  wished  on  this  head,  yet  point- 
ed out  the  way  to  those  who  soon  after  succeeded  him.  No  doubt 
the  excessive  simplification  of  the  sensationalist  school  was  the 
ground  of  Reid’s  jealousy  against  resolving  the  phenomena  of  mind 
into  a very  small  number  of  original  elements  : neither,  with  the  ab- 
surd conclusions  of  the  French  materialists  before  his  eyes,  was 
Stewart  very  likely  to  venture  with  much  boldness  upon  any  spec- 

* On  this  point,  see  his  observations,  “ on  the  vagueness  and  ambiguity  of  the  com- 
mon philosophical  language,  relative  to  the  reason,”  &c. — Elements,  Part.  2,  prelimi- 
nary remarks. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


369 


ulations  of  the  same  nature.  Notwithstanding  this,  however,  he 
furnished  many  instances  of  elegant  analysis,  vdiich  not  only  intro- 
duced decided  improvements  into  Reid’s  classification,  but  prepared 
the  way  for  others  to  proceed  still  further  on  the  same  road. 

3.  But  one  of  the  greatest  services  which  Stewart  rendered  to 
the  philosophy  of  his  country,  is  due  to  the  manner  in  which  he  il- 
lustrated, confirmed,  and  adorned  it  by  his  learning.  Reid  seemed 
as  if  he  gloried  in  standing  directly  opposed  to  the  authority  of 
more  than  two  thousand  years.  Stewart,  on  the  contrary,  rather 
sought  to  prove,  that  the  philosophy  of  other  ages  and  other  nations 
often  tended  to  support  his  own.  The  former  had  to  fight  the 
battle  for  first  principles  so  sternly,  that  he  hardly  thought  of  pro- 
ceeding further  when  the  victory  was  once  achieved ; the  latter 
came  forward  when  the  contest  was  already  over,  and  had  abun- 
dant leisure  to  confirm  the  main  conclusions  they  had  educed  by 
an  appeal  to  extraneous  sources. 

Than  Stewart,  few  men,  perhaps,  were  ever  better  enabled  to 
carry  on  this  kind  of  research.  Devoted  exclusively  to  philo- 
sophical studies,  holding  a position  which  gave  abundant  leisure 
from  professional  duties,  situated  in  a literary  capital  where  books 
to  any  extent  were  at  his  command,  he  enjoyed  every  facility 
which  was  needed  to  aid  him  in  mastering  the  history  of  philos- 
ophy and  in  applying  it  to  the  enlargement  and  perfection  of  his 
own  system.  Learning  always  inspires  confidence  ; we  naturally 
place  reliance  upon  those,  who  build  upon  the  well-known  experi- 
ence of  past  ages ; and  this  was,  doubtless,  one  of  the  methods  by 
which  Stewart  gained  the  confidence  of  so  many  of  his  contem- 
poraries upon  most  of  the  questions  which  involve  metaphysical 
analysis.  He  appeared  evidently  writing  upon  topics  which  he 
had  thoroughly  mastered,  respecting  which  he  knew  the  well-nigh 
universal  voice  of  history ; and  this  alone  was  sufficient  to  give 
him  a power  to  influence  the  opinions,  and  to  gain  the  suffrages 
of  mankind,  which  a more  original  and  a less  learned  philosopher 
would  probably  have  wanted. 

Whilst,  however,  we  can  easily  find  so  much  to  commend  in  the 
writings  we  have  been  thus  briefly  reviewing,  there  are  points  of 
no  little  consequence,  to  which  we  might  make  equally  decisive 
objections.  There  are  certain  theories,  for  example,  involved  in 
his  classification  of  the  powers  of  the  human  mind,  which,  if  strictly 
followed  out,  would  have  gone  far  to  despoil  his  philosophy  of  its 
peculiar  excellence.  The  classification  itself  is  as  follows : — 

24 


370 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


1.  Consciousness;  2.  Perception;  3.  Attention;  4.  Conception; 
5.  Abstraction  ; 6.  Association  of  Ideas  ; 7.  Memory  ; 8.  Imagina- 
tion ; 9.  Judgment  or  Reasoning. 

Now,  first  ot  all,  to  make  consciousness  a separate  faculty  per- 
fectly collateral  with  the  others,  involves  a principle,  which  would 
soon  have  re-opened  the  floodgates  of  scepticism,  and  contravened 
the  very  conclusions  which  both  Reid  and  himself  with  so  much 
labor  had  established.  Consciousness,  as  viewed  by  Stewart,  is 
defined  to  be  “ the  faculty  hy  which  we  are  cognizant  of  our  other 
mental  operations.'’*  If  this  limitation  of  the  term  be  correct, 
then,  of  course,  we  can  never  appeal  to  consciousness  for  the  truth 
of  any  objective  reality.  All  for  which  we  can  make  a direct  ap- 
peal to  consciousness  is  for  the  process  of  knowing,  never  for  the 
thing  known.  Now,  the  great  and  fundamental  principle  of  the 
school  of  Reid  is,  that  we  perceive  external  things  immediately, 
that  we  need  no  image,  or  idea,  or  modification  of  mind  as  the  me- 
dium ; but  that  the  common  belief  of  mankind  (namely,  that  we 
really  see,  feel,  &c.,  external  things  themselves)  is  literally  correct.f 
Once  admit  that,  after  I have  perceived  an  object,  I need  another 
power  termed  consciousness,  by  which  I become  cognizant  of  the 
perception,  and  by  the  medium  of  which  the  knowledge  involved 
in  perception  is  made  valid  to  the  thinking  self,  and  the  plea  of 
“ common  sense”  against  scepticism  is  cut  off.  On  this  principle 
we  are  only  conscious,  after  all,  of  a subjective  state  ; the  objective 
reality,  which  we  suppose  it  to  involve,  may  still  be  a delusion,  and 
we  are  just  as  far  from  controverting  the  pretensions  of  the  scep- 
tic as  ever. 

Perception,  as  we  have  before  shown,  involves  a relation  between 
my  subjective  self  and  an  objective  reality : it  is  the  percipient  mind 
brought  into  direct  contact  with  the  qualities  of  matter  through  the 
medium  of  its  own  organism ; take  away  either  of  the  terms,  and 
the  perception  is  no  more  ; so  that,  to  be  conscious  of  a percep- 
tion evidently  involves  a direct  consciousness  of  the  object  as  well 
as  the  subject.  If  this  be  true,  it  follows  at  once  that  conscious- 
ness cannot  be  a fact  of  mind  resting  on  the  same  footing  and  col- 

* In  the  “ Outlines  of  Moral  Philosophy,”  (p.  18,)  Stewart  gives  another  and  similar 
definition.  “ This  word  denotes  the  immediate  knowledge  which  the  mind  has  of  its 
sensations,  and  thoughts,  and  in  general  of  all  its  present  operations.” 

f This  is  Reid’s  professed  doctrine.  It  must  be  confessed,  however,  that  he  has  com- 
promised it  by  making  the  primary  qualities  of  matter  to  be  suggested  on  occasion  of 
our  experience  of  a sensation  by  certain  unknown  causes.  If  we  have  no  immediate 
intuition  of  the  primary  attributes  of  matter,  we  are  still  within  the  sphere  of  our  sub- 
jectivity, still  virtually  Idealists.  Vid.  Reid’s  “ Inquiry,”  sec.  vii  with  Sir  W.  Hamil- 
ton’s remarks  upon  it. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


371 


lateral  with  perception  ; that  is  to  say,  it  cannot  be  co-ordinate 
generally  with  the  other  intellectual  faculties.  Were  this  the  case 
we  should  have  in  each  instance  two  faculties  to  perform  the  same 
office — a redundancy  which  would  be  sufficient  to  condemn  any 
classification  that  could  for  a moment  admit  it.  Consciousness, 
then,  ought  on  Reid’s  principles  to  have  been  explained,  not  as  a 
separate  faculty,  but  as  a more  universal  term,  implying  the  gene- 
ral condition  of  reflective  intelligence.  I am  conscious  of  self, 
and  I am  conscious  of  not  self ; my  knowledge  of  both  in  the  act 
of  perception  is  equally  direct  and  immediate ; on  the  other  hand, 
to  make  consciousness  a peculiar  faculty,  by  which  we  are  simply 
cognizant  of  our  own  mental  operations,  is  virtually  to  deny  the 
immediacy  of  our  knowledge  of  the  external  world,  and  to  restore 
the  representationalist’s  hypothesis  in  a more  subtle  form.  Hence 
we  maintain,  that  had  Reid  or  Stewart  carried  out  their  doctrine 
of  consciousness  to  its  full  results,  they  would  have  completely  sub- 
verted their  original  conclusions,  and  lost  the  victory  which  they 
seemed  to  have  won.* 

The  second  of  Stewart’s  original  faculties  is  perception.  On 
this  point  it  is  needless  to  make  any  further  remarks.  We  have 
already  shown  in  the  case  of  Reid,  that  the  philosophy  of  percep- 
tion was  well  commenced,  but  not  fully  completed.  Stewart  did 
nothing  to  improve  the  analysis,  but  simply  conveyed  the  results 
of  Reid’s  thinking  in  more  elegant  and  popular  language. f Scot- 
land owes  it  to  the  present  professor  of  logic  in  its  first  univei’sity, 
that  the  philosophy  of  common  sense  has  in  this  respect  been 
made  free  from  the  objections  which  have  hitherto  attached  to  it, 
and  the  whole  question  fixed  upon  a basis,  which  neither  the  scep- 
tic nor  the  idealist  will  be  able  very  readily  to  subvert. 

The  third  of  the  above-mentioned  list  of  faculties  is  attention. 
“It  seems  to  be  a principle,”  remarks  Stewart,  “ sufficiently  ascer- 
tained by  common  experience,  that  there  is  a certain  act  or  exer- 

* It  would  be  a convenient  distinction  if  the  term  self-consciousmss  were  always 
employed  whenever  we  wish  to  express  the  mind’s  cognizance  of  its  own  operations. 
This  would  help  to  remove  the  false  notion  that  we  can  appeal  to  consciousness  for 
nothing  beyond  them.  I am  aware  that  we  must  admit  a difference  in  the  directness 
of  the  evidence  which  we  derive  from  self-consciousness  for  the  existence  of  our  own 
mental  phenomena,  and  that  of  consciousness  at  large,  as  voucher  for  the  trutli  of  our 
primary  beliefs.  To  deny  the  facts  of  self-consciousness,  such  as  thouglits,  notions,  &c., 
would  be  a contradiction  in  terms  ; the  very  denial  of  them  involves  their  existence, 
because  to  doubt  is  to  think.  To  deny  the  deliverances  of  consciousness,  however,  on 
the  validity  of  our  primary  beliefs,  would  not  be  an  absolute  contradiction,  but  would 
merely  involve  the  assertion  that  our  very  constitution  deceives  us,  and  that  the  most 
intimate  and  peculiar  utterances  of  our  nature  are  false  and  delusive. 

f See  Stewart’s  timid  account  of  the  whole  question  in  his  “ Elements.”  Part  L 
chap.  i.  sec.  3. 


372 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


tion  of  the  mind  necessary  to  fix  in  the  memory  the  thoughts  and 
perceptions  of  which  vve  are  conscious.  This  act  is  one  of  the 
simplest  of  all  our  intellectual  operations ; and  yet  it  has  been  very 
little  noticed  by  writers  on  pneumatology.”*'  Here  we  see  the 
evil  effects  of  that  false  classification  of  our  faculties  into  those  of 
the  understanding  and  those  of  the  will.  Had  it  been  seen  by 
Stewart,  that  will,  activity,  power  of  causation,  expressed  the  most 
intimate  nature  of  the  soul  itself,  he  would  not  have  required  to 
make  a separate  faculty  for  the  particular  exertion  of  the  will,  as 
applied  to  our  sensations  or  mental  conceptions. 

The  next  three  faculties,  namely,  conception,  abstraction,  and 
association,  may  be  likewise  reduced  to  more  primitive  elements, 
as  indeed  has  been  done  by  several  of  the  more  modern  writers  of 
the  Scottish  school.  The  two  former  resolve  themselves  into  other 
primitive  poiDers ; the  last  indicates  an  ultimate  law  of  mind,  that 
regulates  the  flow  of  all  our  ideas  and  feelings,  rather  than  a sepa- 
rate intellectual  power,  by  which  we  gain  any  distinct  and  peculiar 
species  of  knowledge. 

All  these  errors  of  classification,  however,  in  Stewart’s  philoso- 
phy, are  in  fact  the  result  of  a still  more  fundamental  imperfection, 
by  which  it  is  encumbered.  Reid,  as  we  have  before  observed, 
evinced  some  tendency  to  reduce  philosophy  to  an  ordinary  branch 
of  inductive  science  ; but  was  too  deeply  imbued  with  right  views 
on  the  nature  and  necessity  of  reflection,  to  carry  this  tendency  to 
any  excess.  Not  so  with  Stewart.  Throughout  his  whole  writ- 
ings, the  inductive  method  seems  to  be  his  great  idol.  Nothing  will 
do  but  facts,  phenomena,  observation — Baconian  induction  ; all  to 
be  used,  moreover,  with  a due  share  of  discretion  not  to  trespass  a 
foot  beyond  the  beaten  road  which  has  been  thus  pointed  out  to  us. 
All  this,  no  doubt,  has  a plausible  aspect  about  it ; but  it  should  be 
remembered,  that  the  method  of  reflection,  by  which  alone  our  in- 
ward life  can  be  scientifically  known,  is  a very  different  process 
from  that  of  outward  observation,  as  applicable  to  the  world  of 
nature.  When  we  gaze  upon  nature,  all  we  can  see  is  simply 
the  succession  of  events ; of  the  powers  which  are  in  operation, 
we  can  know  nothing  directly.  On  the  other  hand,  when  we  ob- 
serve the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  we  have  not  only  the  per- 
ception of  successive  phenomena,  but  a most  intimate  conscious- 
ness of  the  power  itself  by  which  those  phenomena  are  regulated, 
and  thus  ascend  from  the  actual  to  the  necessary — from  what  is, 
* Outlines  of  Mor.  Phil.  p.  36. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


373 


to  what  must  be.  In  this  way  we  penetrate  a step  further  into  the 
nature  of  things,  than  mere  observation  could  cany  us ; and  by  the 
personal  consciousness  of  our  own  volitions  as  causes,  we  gain  a 
faint  conception  (which,  however,  may  be  strengthened  by  reflec- 
tion to  almost  any  amount)  of  the  wondrous  operations  exerted  in 
upholding  and  carrying  on  the  universe  of  existence  around  us. 
On  this  point,  however,  we  shall  not  enlarge,  as  it  will  soon  come 
more  fully  before  our  notice  in  giving  a general  estimate  of  the 
Scottish  philosophy. 

On  the  whole,  we  consider  that  the  philosophy  of  Stewart,  even 
to  a greater  extent  than  that  of  Reid,  was  too  primary.  . He  was 
so  much  employed  in  defending  the  outposts  which  had  been  won, 
in  strengthening  them  against  any  fresh  attacks,  and  in  ornament- 
ing them  by  his  learning  and  taste,  that  comparatively  little  prog- 
ress was  made  in  building  up  a complete  system.  He  was  rather 
the  acute  and  elegant  critic,  than  the  profound  and  systematic 
philosopher ; and  his  labors,  perhaps,  are  more  highly  to  be  esti- 
mated by  the  ardor  and  enthusiasm  with  which  they  were  calcu- 
lated to  inspire  others  in  the  pursuit  of  intellectual  science,  than 
by  the  actual  results  which  they  themselves  succeeded  in  educing. 
The  sentiments  expressed  by  Thomas  Carlyle,  nearly  twenty  years 
ago,  in  the  “ Edinburgh  Review,”  we  regard  as  one  of  the  most 
accurate  judgments  which  have  been  passed  upon  Stewart  as  a 
philosopher.  “ The  name  of  Dugald  Stewart  is  a name  venerable 
to  all  Europe,  and  to  none  more  dear  and  venerable  than  to  our- 
selves. Nevertheless  his  writings  are  not  a philosophy,  but  a 
making  ready  for  one.  He  does  not  enter  on  the  field  to  till  it,  he 
only  encompasses  it  with  fences,  invites  cultivators,  and  drives 
away  intruders ; often  (fallen  on  evil  days)  he  is  reduced  to  long 
arguments  with  the  passers-by  to  prove  that  it  is  a field,  that  this 
so  highly  prized  domain  of  his  is,  in  truth,  soil  and  substance,  not 
clouds  and  shadow.  We  regard  his  discussions  on  the  nature  of 
philosophic  language,  and  his  unwearied  efforts  to  set  forth  and 
guard  against  its  fallacies,  as  worthy  of  all  acknowledgment,  as, 
indeed,  forming  the  greatest,  perhaps  the  only  true  improvement 
which  philosophy  has  received  among  us  in  our  age.  It  is  only  to 
a superficial  observer,  that  the  import  of  these  discussions  can 
seem  trivial : rightly  understood,  they  give  a sufficient  and  final 
answer  to  Hartley’s  and  Darwin’s  and  all  other  possible  forms  of 
materialism,  the  grand  idolatry,  as  we  may  rightly  call  it,  by  which, 


374 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


in  all  times,  the  true  worship,  that  of  the  Invisible,  has  been  pol- 
luted and  withstood.” 

The  tendency  of  the  Scottish  philosophy,  up  to  the  point  where 
we  have  now  arrived,  was  clearly  and  decidedly  anti-sensational. 
The  main  efforts  both  of  Reid  and  Stewart,  were  directed  to  the 
establishment  of  certain  fundamental  truths,  (whether  termed  prin- 
ciples of  common  sense  or  primary  laws  of  belief,)  which  could  not 
be  subjected  on  the  ground  of  their  empirical  origin  to  the  bold 
attacks  of  the  sceptic.  There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  both  those 
writers,  with  so  many  evil  examples  of  over-simplification  before 
their  eyes,  were  restrained  from  carrying  out  their  analysis  to  the 
extent  they  would  otherwise  have  done,  and  that  they  were  thus 
led  to  assign  a far  greater  number  of  original  powers  or  instincts 
than  were  necessary  to  account  for  all  the  phenomena  of  the  case. 
At  the  same  time  the  error  was  on  the  safe  side,  especially  in  an 
age  when  everything  in  the  form  of  philosophy,  both  in  England 
and  France,  was  rapidly  assuming  a materialistic  and  empirical 
character.  The  tone  of  Scottish  philosophy,  however,  was  now 
destined  to  undergo  a very  considerable  change.  Already  in  the 
writings  of  Stewart  there  were  manifested,  as  we  have  before  re- 
marked, some  attempts  at  a bolder  analysis ; and  these  attempts 
were  not  likely  to  be  lost  upon  the  ardent  minds  which  succeeded 
him — minds  in  some  instances  deeply  imbued  with  the  empirical 
spirit  of  the  age. 

From  the  close  of  Stewart’s  career,  indeed,  downwards  to  the 
present  time,  we  may  consider  that  the  tendency  of  the  Scottish 
metaphysical  school  has  been  somewhat  in  the  opposite  direction 
from  that  which  it  manifested  under  its  earlier  supporters.*  Not, 
indeed,  that  it  has  ever  run  into  those  more  extreme  conclusions  of 
sensationalism,  which  we  have  noted  in  the  writings  of  Mill ; but 
still,  in  its  zeal  for  completing  the  analysis  of  the  human  conscious- 
ness, and  correcting  the  errors  or  imperfections  with  which  the 
works  we  have  already  noticed  are  characterized,  it  has  incurred 
some  danger,  lest,  once  on  the  descent  towards  simplification,  it 
should  not  know  where  to  stop,  in  order  to  avoid  the  evils  of  the 
opposite  extreme.  We  must  now  proceed  to  exemplify  this,  by 
sketching  the  history  of  philosophy  in  Scotland  from  the  decline  of 
Stewart  to  the  present  day. 

Amongst  the  youthful  minds  which  the  Edinburgh  professor  in- 

* To  this  remark  there  are  some  eminent  exceptions;  none  more  so  than  Sir  W. 
Hamilton. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


375 


spired  with  a love  for  philosophical  research,  there  was  one,  who  at 
an  unusually  early  age  showed  the  marks  of  an  extraordinary 
genius,  and  who  afterwards  rose  to  an  eminence  which  did  not 
disappoint  the  expectations  he  had  excited.  Dr.  Thomas  Brown, 
to  whom  we  allude,  was  born  in  the  year  1778,  and  having  received 
a liberal  education  in  England,  entered,  while  yet  very  young, 
upon  the  studies  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  At  the  age  of 
sixteen  he  commenced  the  study  of  moral  philosophy,  under  the 
tuition  of  Dugald  Stewart ; and  was  even  then  distinguished  for 
the  acuteness  with  which  he  entered  into  the  most  abstruse  ques- 
tions of  metaphysics  that  were  brought  before  the  class.  Before 
he  attained  his  nineteenth  year,  he  undertook  to  examine  and 
refute  the  sophistry  of  Darwin,  in  his  “ Zoonomia,”  and  with  such 
clearness  did  he  unravel  the  web,  and  expose  the  fallacies  it  con- 
tained, that  the  work  (published  anonymously)  was  universally 
attributed  by  the  “ Reviews  ” to  some  philosopher  of  high  standing 
and  matured  ability.  His  next  work,  published  in  1804,  was  “On 
Cause  and  Effect,”  a subject  which  he  was  led  to  undertake  from 
some  illiberal  remarks  made  upon  Mr.  Leslie,  on  account  of  his 
favoring  the  theory  of  Hume.  In  1810,  he  was  elected  professor 
of  moral  philosophy,  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Stewart ; and  it  is 
upon  the  lectures  which  in  that  capacity  he  delivered,  although 
published  posthumously,  without  having  received  their  last  touches 
from  his  own  hand,  that  his  fame  as  a metaphysician  has  chiefly 
rested.  He  died  April  2,  1820,  beloved  by  many,  regretted  by  all, 
in  the  very  ascendency  of  his  genius  and  reputation. 

As  a writer.  Brown  must  be  regarded  as  eminently  successful. 
Inferior  to  Stewart  in  classic  chasteness  of  diction,  and  philosophic 
elegance  of  style,  yet  his  mind  was  of  that  poetic  order  which  can 
throw  a luxuriance,  perhaps  we  might  say  a redundancy  of  imagery 
and  illustration,  around  every  subject  that  it  undertakes.  From 
this,  mainly,  has  arisen  the  great  popularity  of  his  lectures,  which 
have  not  only  passed  through  many  editions,  but  are  now,  after 
more  than  twenty  years,  in  almost  as  great  request  as  they  were  at 
first.  Our  chief  object,  however,  at  present,  is  to  consider  Brown 
as  a philosopher,  which  we  shall  attempt  to  do  without  being 
drawn  away,  either  by  the  depreciation  of  his  opponents,  or  the 
excessive  commendation  of  his  admirers. 

That  Brown  possessed  splendid  abilities,  and  that  his  writings 
generally  are  marked  with  superior  excellence,  every  candid  reader 
must  admit.  The  most  distinctive  feature  of  his  mind  is  generally 


376 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


allowed  to  have  been  the  power  of  analysis,  in  which  he  greatly 
transcended  all  philosophers  of  the  Scottish  school  who  preceded 
him.  On  this  point  we  can  go  far  to  concur  in  the  words  of  his 
admiring  biographer,  where  he  says,  “ No  intricacy  was  too  involved 
lor  him  to  unravel ; no  labyrinth  too  mazy  for  him  to  explore. 
The  knot  that  thousands  had  left  in  despair,  as  too  complicated  for 
mortal  hand  to  undo,  and  which  others,  more  presumptuous,  had 
cut  in  twain,  in  the  rage  of  baffled  ingenuity,  he  unloosed  with  un- 
rivalled dexterity.  The  enigmas  which  a false  philosophy  had  so 
long  propounded,  and  which,  because  they  were  not  solved,  had 
made  victims  of  many  of  the  finest  and  highest  gifted  of  our  race, 
he  at  last  succeeded  in  unriddling.” 

Endued  by  nature  with  so  acute  an  analytic  faculty,  and  not 
being  restrained  from  its  exercise  by  so  strong  motives  as  had 
operated  in  the  case  of  the  earlier  metaphysicians  of  Scotland,  it 
is  not  surprising,  that  he  became  convinced,  even  while  his  powers 
were  yet  immature,  of  the  necessity  there  was  for  a complete  revi- 
sion of  the  current  philosophy  of  his  country,  with  regard  to  the 
classification  of  mental  phenomena.  Educated  under  the  influ- 
ence of  Reid’s  anti-sensational  principles,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
drawn,  both  by  his  own  peculiar  genius  as  well  as  the  tendency  of 
the  age,  to  a more  refined  analysis  on  the  other,  he  stood  in  a posi- 
tion admirably  adapted  to  bring  the  classification  of  mental  phe- 
nomena to  a high  degree  of  perfection.  His  reverence  for  the 
school  to  which  by  birth  and  education  he  belonged,  secured  him 
against  the  extravagancies  of  the  French  ideologists,  and  yet  he 
was  impelled  onwards,  by  the  other  circumstances  we  have  men- 
tioned, to  commence  a kind  of  secret  revolt  against  his  preceptors, 
in  behalf  of  a more  comprehensively  analytic  system.  While, 
therefore,  with  the  example  of  his  countrymen  before  him,  he  could 
not  but  be  impressed  with  the  absolute  necessity  of  admitting  cer- 
tain fundamental  principles  of  belief ; yet  he  was  so  charmed,  on 
the  other  hand,  with  the  many  successful  attempts  of  the  school  of 
Hartley,  to  resolve  complex  phenomena  into  simpler  elements  by 
means  of  the  laws  of  association,  that  his  whole  philosophy  became 
tinged  by  its  influence.  To  these  circumstances  we  may  trace 
almost  all  the  peculiarities  which  are  to  be  found  in  his  waitings, 
only  considering  that  his  views  are  worked  up  with  singular  clear- 
ness and  sagacity  into  a complete  system  of  psychology. 

We  are  far,  therefore,  from  attributing  to  Brown  all  the  origi- 
nality which  has  been  claimed  for  him  by  some  of  his  warmest 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


377 


admirers.  Taking  the  influence  of  the  Scottish  school  into  consid- 
eration, he  could  hardly  fail  to  retain  his  hold  on  some  few  original 
principles  of  man’s  belief,  lest  he  should  again  open  a door  for  the 
re-introduction  of  the  sweeping  scepticism  of  Hume.  Taking  into 
account,  on  the  other  hand,  his  native  power  of  analysis,  aided  and 
abetted  by  the  current  philosophy  both  of  France  and  England,  he 
was  almost  necessarily  led  to  adopt  some  of  the  conclusions  of 
the  sensational  school ; yet  still  in  such  a form,  that  they  should 
not  contradict  and  overturn  the  main  points,  which  had  been 
gained  by  the  polemical  ardor  of  his  own  countrymen.  He  knew 
how  to  adopt  Hartley’s  excellencies  without  his  errors  ; at  the  same 
time  he  clearly  saw  how  far  it  was  possible  to  depart  from  Stewart 
without  proclaiming  against  him  too  open  hostility ; and  thus  from 
a mind  so  nicely  balanced  between  the  two  extremes,  there  ema- 
nated a classification  which,  avoiding  the  evils  of  both  sides,  came 
upon  the  whole  nearer  to  perfection  than  any  British  philosopher 
had  succeeded  in  bringing  it  befoi'e  him.  In  thus  extolling  Brown’s 
classification  of  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind,  we  would  by 
no  means  represent  it  as  unobjectionable,  either  in  principle  or  in 
phraseology ; all  that  we  intend  to  convey  is,  that  he  was  so  far 
successful  in  his  attempt  as  virtually  to  arrive  at  the  three  great 
divisions  of  our  mental  states,  to  which  all  the  best  analyses  of 
more  modern  times  have  manifestly  tended,  namely.  Sensation,  In- 
tellection, and  Emotion.* 

But  whilst  we  thus  award  to  Brown  the  merit  of  great  sagacity, , 
and  an  admirable  power  of  analysis,  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  the 
defects  by  which  his  works  are  characterized,  some  of  the  most 
grave  and  serious  description. 


♦ It  is  hardly  necessary  to  state  that  Brown  divides  mental  phenomena  into  external 
and  internal  states,  the  latter  comprehending  intellectual  states  and  emotions,  the  in- 
tellectual states  again  comprehending  simple  and  relative  suggestions,  thus : — 


r 


External  states. 


All  the  variety 
of  sensations. 


Mental  phenomena 
include 


Internal  states. 


Intellectual. 


f Simple 
I Suggestion. 

I Relative 
L Suggestion. 


Emotional.  \ 

^ ^ Desires. 

Sensation,  intellection,  and  emotion,  which  the  above  classification  evidently  includes, 
may,  without  much  difficulty,  be  shown  to  run  parallel  with  the  modern  French  divis- 
ions into  sensitivity,  intellection,  and  will.  We  shall  have  to  show,  however,  that 
Brown’s  view  of  the  will  vitiated  all  the  benefit  which  might  have  flowed  from  his  divis- 
ion, had  he  assigned  it  its  due  place  among  the  faculties. 


378 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


1.  We  would  point  out  his  peculiar  jo/iraseo/og-?/  as  by  no  means 
calculated  to  add  perspicuity  or  strength  to  his  philosophy.  There 
is  something  objectionable  in  the  terms  by  which  his  very  classifi- 
cation is  expressed,  namely,  external  and  internal  states.  An  ex- 
ternal state,  taken  strictly,  is  an  absurdity ; for  sensation  is  as  much 
in  the  mind  as  is  memory,  and  judgment,  or  any  of  the  emotions.* 
We  are  willing  to  admit,  however,  that  Brown  only  intended  to 
convey  by  the  phrase  “ external  and  internal  states,”  those  which 
are  mai’ked  in  the  one  case  by  an  outward,  and  in  the  other  by  an 
inward  condition ; still  there  arise  two  objections  against  such  a 
classification — first,  that  in  a proper  classification,  our  mental  phe- 
nomena ought  to  be  designated  by  something  that  is  characteristic 
of  themselves,  and  not  merely  of  the  circumstances  which  may  pre- 
cede them ; and,  secondly,  that  the  arrangement,  even  allowing  its 
principle  to  be  admissible,  still  fails  of  accuracy  in  the  case  of  the 
emotions,  many  of  which,  though  they  are  all  denominated  internal 
states,  clearly  involve  certain  external  conditions  ; such  as  those, 
for  example,  which  are  termed  instinctive. 

Again,  we  have  never  been  able  to  see  the  propriety  or  the  de- 
sirableness of  using  the  terms  simple  and  relative  suggestion, 
instead  of  the  much  more  intelligible  terms,  which  others  have  al- 
ways employed  to  express  virtually  the  same  phenomena.  The 
whole  attempt,  in  fact,  to  account  for  the  powers  of  memory  and 
judgment  by  the  laws  of  suggestion,  we  cannot  but  regard  as 
utterly  useless.  Admit  that  memory  and  suggestion  are  fundamen- 
tally the  same  thing,  what  is  gained  in  point  of  analysis  by  blotting 
out  one  original  faculty  and  substituting  for  it  another  ? It  simply 
comes,  after  all,  to  a question  of  phraseology.  Here  is  a fact  of 
mind  that  all  admit ; hitherto  it  has  been  called  memory ; now, 
says  Brown,  we  must  call  it  simple  suggestion.  What  benefit,  we 
ask,  is  conferred  upon  philosophy  by  the  change  ? Perhaps  it  may 
be  replied,  that  by  pointing  out  the  two  kinds  of  suggestion,  namely, 
simple  and  relative,  you  reduce  the  phenomena  of  memory  and 
judgment  to  one  law.  Not  at  all.  Judgment  can  never  be  re- 
duced to  the  general  law  of  suggestion ; the  very  element  which 
separates  it  from  this  general  law  has  to  be  superadded,  even  by 
Brown  himself,  by  prefixing  the  term  relative ; so  that,  although 

* I am  aware  that  the  doctrine  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton  might  be  regarded  as  opposed  to 
this  assertion,  namely,  “ that  the  subject  of  sensation  may  be  indifferently  said  to  be  our 
organism  (as  animated,)  or  our  soul  (as  united  with  an  organism) ; ’ but  this  doctrine 
of  natural  realism  cannot  be  pleaded  on  behalf  of  Brown’s  consistency,  who  distinctly 
considers  sensation  as  a mental  stale  only.  An  external  mental  state,  we  cannot  but 
regard  as  a paradox. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


379 


we  cast  away  the  old-standing  terms,  yet  we  are  obliged  to  admit 
the  same  things  under  two  other  names.  Simple  suggestion  is 
nothing  else  than  an  awkward  name  for  memory,  and  relative  sug- 
gestion‘nothing  else  than  a still  more  awkward  one  for  judgment; 
neither  is  the  real  nature  of  the  one  process  or  the  other  made  at 
all  clearer  by  changing  the  ordinary  into  the  new  and  less  intelli- 
gible phraseology. 

Still,  further,  we  should  contend  strongly  against  giving  up  the 
use  of  the  words  power,  faculty,  and  other  similar  expressions, 
which  keep  constantly  before  our  view  the  native  activity  or  spon- 
taneity of  the  human  mind,  and  substituting  in  their  place  the 
phraseology,  which  represents  all  mental  phenomena  as  states  pro- 
duced by  fixed  laws  or  by  other  and  extraneous  causes.  That 
there  is  something  at  first  sight  plausible  and  apparently  simple  in 
this  view  of  our  mental  phenomena,  may  be  readily  granted ; but 
nothing  can  be  really  more  false  and  deceptive.  It  makes  our  con- 
sciousness to  resemble  a chain  consisting  of  separate  links,  the  one 
springing  by  fixed  laws  out  of  the  other.  Instead  of  this,  it  rather 
resembles  a continuous  thread,  without  any  division  into  parts, 
throughout  the  whole  of  which  the  intellect,  the  feelings,  and  the 
will,  are  indissolubly  woven  together.  The  notion  of  transition- 
states  is  purely  imaginary.  There  is  no  such  transition  in  the 
soul ; there  are  no  points  in  our  being  in  which  we  can  say,  “ Now 
I exist  in  one  state  of  consciousness,  and  now  I pass  over  into 
another.”  Consciousness  is  a unity ; the  elements  of  which  it  is 
composed  run  through  the  whole  of  its  being ; every  instant  is  a 
state,  and  every  instant  is  also  a change — equally  one  and  the 
other.  To  consciousness,  being  and  progressing  are  the  same 
thing ; and  instead  of  regarding  the  mind,  therefore,  as  a succes- 
sion of  phases,  we  are  much  nearer  the  truth  when  we  regard  it  as 
a living  unity,  endowed  with  certain  powers,  which  it  puts  forth  for 
the  most  part  simultaneously,  but  with  variations,  with  regard  to 
their  relative  predominance  and  intensity.* 

Either  style  of  expression,  no  doubt,  might  be  defined,  so  as  to 
convey  a correct  notion,  whichever  notion  may  be  correct ; but 
to  us  it  seems,  on  the  grounds  above  stated,  that  the  phrases  in- 
tellectual and  active  powers,  give,  according  to  the  common  use 
of  language,  a far  more  truthful  representation  of  the  real  char- 
acter of  the  facts  themselves,  than  does  the  philosophical  vocab- 
ulary for  which  they  have  been  exchanged.  The  tendency  of 

* See  some  remarks  on  this  subject  by  the  author,  in  the  Eclectic  Review,  Dec.  1846. 


380 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


this  exchange  is  most  evidently  of  a sensational  character ; it  di- 
minishes the  intensity  of  our  notion  of  self,  as  an  independent 
source  of  power,  and  contemplates  the  mind  rather  as  a passive 
existence,  moulded  into  its  different  states  either  by  the ‘force  of 
circumstances  on  the  one  hand,  or  by  its  own  inevitable  and  un- 
alterable laws  on  the  other.  Unless  far  better  reasons  are  given 

o 

for  so  important  a change  of  language,  than  any  that  are  to  be 
found  in  Brown’s  own  writings,  we  must  regard  it  as  a serious 
defect,  and  calculated  rather  to  retard  than  advance  the  progress 
of  intellectual  science. 

2.  Another  defect  in  the  works  now  before  us,  arises  from  the 
historical  inaccuracies  and  misconceptions  with  which  they  abound. 
Brown  possessed  an  ardent  mind,  rapid  in  its  operations,  vivid  in 
its  conceptions,  and  far  more  adapted  to  grasp  the  whole,  extent 
of  a theory  by  one  intellectual  effort,  supplying  whatever  was  ob- 
scure by  his  own  ready  invention,  than  to  develop  it  to  himself  by 
long  and  patient  research.  He  was  accustomed  to  read  books 
with  astonishing  rapidity,  and  his  retentive  memory  easily  pre- 
served the  most  important  ideas  for  his  future  use.  But  it  is 
evident,  that  this  method  of  acquiring  knowledge,  however  ap- 
propriate in  the  case  of  ordinary  works,  was  by  no  means  calcu- 
lated to  give  deep  and  comprebensive  views  of  those  philosophical 
systems,  which  can  only  be  mastered  by  close  and  prolonged  re- 
flection. Accordingly,  we  soon  discover,  that  Brown’s  knowledge 
of  the  philosophy  of  the  ancient  world  was  rather  popular  than 
profound.  He  could  describe  in  his  own  easy  and  lively  style, 
some  of  the  prominent  features  of  the  academy  or  the  porch,  of 
Epicurus  or  the  Stagirite,  but  he  had  not  studied  these  vai'ious 
systems  in  their  deeper  conceptions,  their  finer  shades,  or  their 
historical  development.  The  method  in  which  the  controversy 
regarding  the  ideal  system  is  treated  in  his  lectures,  is  a striking 
instance  of  the  deficiency  we  are  now  describing.  He  accounts 
for  the  errors,  which  arose  on  this  subject  among  the  ancient 
philosophers,  from  their  supposed  indefinite  use  of  the  word  idea, 
applying  it,  as  he  aflirms  they  were  accustomed  to  do,  sometimes 
to  the  mental  affection,  sometimes  to  the  organic  affection,  and 
sometimes  to  both.  A theory  more  gratuitous  and  more  incon- 
sistent with  facts,  could  hardly  have  been  proposed.  It  is  evident 
that  our  imaginative  author,  having  got  a genei’al  notion  of  the 
peripatetic  doctrine  of  images,  species,  and  phantasms  ; having 
taken  for  granted  that  it  was  held  universally,  and  in  the  same 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


381 


manner  by  the  schoolmen  ; having  supposed,  further,  that  the 
word  idea  was  the  one  employed  in  both  cases  to  explain  their 
opinions,  hastily  jumped  at  the  conclusion,  that  all  the  errors  in- 
volved must  have  arisen  from  misconceptions  connected  with  that 
one  word.  Now  let  us  learn,  from  the  pen  of  one  who  has  not 
inappropriately  been  termed  “ the  greatest  critic  of  our  age,”  what 
was  the  real  state  of  the  case.  “ In  the  first  place,”  says  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  “ the  term  idea  was  never  employed  in  any 
system  previous  to  the  age  of  Descartes  to  denote  little  images 
derived  from  objects  without.  In  the  second,  it  was  never  used  in 
any  philosophy,  prior  to  the  same  period,  to  signify  the  immediate 
object  of  perception.  In  the  third,  it  was  not  applied  by  the  peri- 
patetics or  schoolmen  to  express  an  object  of  human  thought  at 
all.  In  the  fourth,  ideas  (taking  this  term  for  species)  were  not 
in  all  the  dark  ages  of  the  scholastic  followers  of  Aristotle  regarded 
as  little  images  derived  from  without,  for  a numerous  party  of  the 
most  illustrious  schoolmen  rejected  species  not  only  m the  intel- 
lect, but  in  the  sense.  In  the  fifth,  phantasm,  in  the  old  philosophy, 
was  not  the  external  cause  of  perception,  but  the  internal  object 
of  imagination.  In  the  sixth,  the  term  shadowy  film,  which  here 
and  elsewhere  he  constantly  uses,  shows  that  Dr.  Brown  con- 
founds the  matterless  species  of  the  peripatetics  with  the  substan- 
tial effluxions  of  Democritus  and  Epicurus.”*  The  instance  we 
have  here  of  historical  inaccuracy  and  misconception,  is  by  no 
means  a solitary  one  in  Dr.  Brown’s  writings  ; indeed,  if  we  com- 
pare the  knowledge  he  manifested  generally  of  the  philosophers 
of  antiquity  with  that  possessed  by  Cudworth,  Berkeley,  or  Henry 
More,  with  Cousin  in  France,  or  the  modern  idealists  of  Germany, 
we  at  once  become  sensible  of  his  great  deficiency.  So  far,  then, 
respecting  his  knowledge  of  the  ancient  philosophers  : it  is  equally 
evident,  however,  that  there  is  a similar  want  of  profundity  in  his 
estimate  of  the  more  abstruse  of  the  modern  metaphysical  sys- 
tems. His  conception  of  the  real  nature  and  spirit  of  Cartesianism 
was  extremely  meagre.  In  that  feature  of  the  Cartesian  doc- 
trines, to  which  he  particularly  refers,  namely,  the  theory  of  oc- 
casional causes,  he  has  evidently  misunderstood  the  whole  bearing 
of  the  question  ; nay,  he  argues  that  Descartes  himself  was  clear 
to  lucidity  upon  this  very  doctrine,  which  was  the  basis  of  the 
greatest  controversy  among  his  immediate  followers.f 

* Edinburgh  Review,  vol.  iii.,  “ On  the  Philosophy  of  Perception.” 

f Lecture  S7. 


382 


iMODERN  rHILOSOPHY. 


The  same  deficiency  is  manifest  when  he  treats  of  the  philoso- 
phy of  Leibnitz.*  To  comprehend  and  dress  up  the  popular  idea 
attached  to  his  theory  of  pre-established  harmony  was  sufficiently 
easy,  but  we  gain  not  the  faintest  glimmering  from  Brown’s  writ- 
ings of  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  dynamical  philosophy,  as 
developed  by  that  author ; so  that  the  theory  in  question,  severed 
from  tlie  system  of  which  it  forms  a necessary  portion,  appeared 
but  the  monstrous  production  of  a half-crazy  brain,  instead  of  be- 
ing the  matured  opinion  of  one  of  the  greatest  men  in  Europe,  and 
the  inventor  of  the  differential  calculus.  Let  any  one  place  by  the 
side  of  Brown’s  almost  ludicrous  exposition  of  this  doctrine,  that 
of  his  French  contemporary,  Maine  de  Biran,  and  then  judge  which 
mind  had  dived  most  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  the  Leibnitzian  phi- 
losophy. It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show,  that  Brown  entered 
with  a like  hasty  partiality  into  the  views  of  Locke,  and  that  he 
gi'eatly  misunderstood  the  scepticism  of  Hume ; as  the  natural 
consequence  of  which  he  rejected  the  claims  of  Reid  to  the  vic- 
tory he  won  over  the  conclusions  of  that  modern  pyrrhonist. 
This,  however,  would  lead  us  into  a too  lengthened  discussion,  and 
is  the  less  necessary,  as  we  have  already  lightly  touched  upon  the 
pei’ceptionalist  controversy,  and  shall  elucidate  it  still  further  in 
our  succeeding  remarks. 

3.  We  proceed,  therefore,  next,  to  notice  Brown’s  theory  of  cause 
and  effect,  which  we  regard  as  the  foundation  of  much  that  is  er- 
roneous thi’oughout  his  whole  system.  There  are  two  classes  of 
phenomena  open  to  our  observation, — mental  and  material ; other- 
wise termed  internal  and  external.  In  both  instances  we  observe 
change,  succession,  effects ; and  consequently,  in  both  cases,  we 
acknowledge,  in  some  sense  or  other,  the  existence  of  causes.  In 
the  case  of  mental  phenomena,  however,  we  have  means  of  under- 
standing the  process  of  these  changes  (or,  in  other  words,  the 
nature  of  causes),  which  means,  in  the  phenomena  of  matter,  en- 
tirely fail  us.  In  the  latter  case  we  observe  simply  the  succession 
of  events  (and  observation  can  show  us  no  more) ; in  the  former 
case,  however,  we  possess  a consciousness,  which  gives  us,  in  ad- 
dition to  successive  phenomena,  the  distinct  idea  of  effort  or  power, 
excited  by  our  will,  as  the  intermediate  step  by  which  the  two 
events  are  conjoined. 

Now,  in  reasoning  out  a theory  of  causation,  either  we  may 
begin  with  observing  material  changes,  may  ground  our  chief  view 
♦ Lecture  31 . 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


383 


of  the  case  upon  them,  and  from  that  view  proceed  to  the  expla 
nation  of  spiritual  ones ; or  we  may  begin  with  internal  phenom 
ena,  and  carry  over  the  notion  we  derive  from  thence,  as  to  the 
existence  of  power,  into  the  material  world.  Those  whose  phi- 
losophy is  formed  mainly  upon  the  plan  and  the  habit  of  physical 
investigations,  starting  from  the  external  world,  are  naturally  led 
to  deny  the  existence  of  power  altogether,  inasmuch  as  they  find 
no  sensible  trace  of  it  in  nature  : on  the  contrary,  those  who  start 
from  purely  internal  and  spiritual  phenomena,  have  no  difficulty 
in  admitting  the  real  existence  of  power,  though  invisible  to  the 
senses,  wherever  changes  are  seen  to  take  place.  First,  the  pure 
idealist,  bending  his  whole  attention  upon  his  internal  conscious- 
ness, transforms  all  nature  into  a system  of  mental  dynamics. 
Secondly,  the  moderate  idealist,  admitting  the  reality  of  passive 
substance,  yet  maintains  that  there  must  be  certain  forces  at  work 
to  produce  the  phenomena  in  it,  which  we  constantly  observe 
around  us.  thirdly,  the  philosopher  of  the  common  sense  school, 
like  Reid  and  Stewart,  though  virtually  denying  the  objective 
reality  of  power,  yet  admits,  that  we  have  a distinct  metaphysical 
conception  of  it  subjectively  in  the  operations  of  our  own  mind.* 
Fourthly,  the  incipient  sensationalist,  like  Brown,  is  too  much 
charmed  with  his  method  of  physical  inquiry  to  give  any  heed  to 
this  metaphysical  notion,  and  hence  denies  its  existence  in  any 
other  sense  than  that  of  “ immediate  invariable  antecedence,”  still 
admitting,  however,  the  instinctive  necessity  of  our  belief  in  the 
perpetual  uniformity  of  cause  and  effect  in  nature.  And,  lastly, 
the  complete  sceptic  like  Hume,  as  also  the  complete  materialist 
like  Priestley,  and  the  French  ideologists,  not  only  deny  the  notion 
of  efficiency  or  power,  but  refer  our  very  belief  in  the  constancy 
of  cause  and  effect  to  the  influence  of  experience  and  association. 
The  position  of  Brown  in  the  conti'oversy,  is  thus  sufficiently  indi- 
cated as  one  in  which  the  existence  of  power,  delegated  from  the 
Deity,  is  altogether  denied ; the  idea  of  any  efficient  causes  oper- 
ating in  nature  rejected ; adaptation  in  causality  entirely  lost  sight 
of;  and  the  whole  phenomena  of  mind  and  matter  reduced  to  a 
series  of  events,  the  fact  of  whose  connection  we  see,  the  uni- 
formity of  which  we  believe  in,  but  the  bond  of  which  is  entirely 
unknown.  Brown’s  first  error  on  this  subject  is  his  overlooking 
our  own  personal  consciousness  of  effort,  the  true  type  of  a cause, 

* “ The  only  distinct  conception,”  says  Reid,  “ which  T can  form  of  active  power  is, 
that  it  is  an  attribute  in  a being,  by  which  he  can  do  certain  things  if  he  wills.  This, 
after  all,  is  only  a relative  conception.” — Active  Powers,  Essay  i.  chap.  5. 


384 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  legitimate  verification  of  the  idea  of  power.  Fraught  witn  the 
instruction  of  this  self-consciousness,  we  approach  the  wonders  of 
nature  with  a new  vision ; we  gaze  upon  the  perpetual  succession 
of  movements  and  changes  that  are  ever  taking  place  around  us, 
and  what  conviction  do  they  at  once  suggest  ? Clearly  this — that 
it  is  as  much  impossible  for  the  mere  skeleton  of  nature  which  we 
see  by  the  eye,  to  start  forth  into  activity  without  some  unseen 
power  or  force  to  animate  it,  as  it  is  for  the  arm  we  call  our  own 
to  act  without  the  energy  of  the  will.  Imbued,  then,  with  a fun- 
damental error  on  this  subject.  Brown  approached  the  formal  in- 
vestigation of  the  human  mind,  and  in  accordance  with  the  doctrine 
he  had  asserted  on  the  question  of  causation,  regarded  it  not  as  a 
spontaneous  energy,  but  as  a passive  existence  subjected  absolutely 
to  certain  organic  impressions  from  without,  and  certain  fixed  laws 
of  consciousness  within.  It  is  curious  to  run  through  the  whole 
of  his  lectures,  and  see  how  this  idea  follows  him  lijre  a spectre, 
and  modifies  his  opinions  on  every  point.  In  his  classification  of 
mental  phenomena,  as  we  before  showed,  he  sees  only  external  and 
internal  states;  that  is,  he  imagines  the  mind  like  an  unhappy 
paralytic  put  into  different  positions,  and  obliged  to  remain  sta- 
tionless in  each  until  the  next  force  comes  to  act  upon  it.  With 
regard  to  our  knowledge  of  the  external  world,  he  cannot  think 
that  the  soul  is  able  to  go  forth  by  its  own  activity,  and  seize  the 
reality  and  nature  of  objective  existence  around  us ; it  must  wait 
till  a new  set  of  sensations  connected  with  the  action  of  the  mus- 
cles, teach  us  the  important  lesson,  that  there  is  veritably  an  ob- 
jective world  as  well  as  a subjective.  How  the  mind  reasons, 
however,  from  its  muscular  feelings,  which,  as  feelings,  must  be 
purely  subjective  after  all  to  the  world  without,  and  how  it  can 
infer  anything  beyond  itself  from  a sensation  within  itself,  except 
by  the  aid  of  some  primitive  belief  or  intuition,  he  does  not  tell. 
Again,  attention,  which  is  pretty  generally  admitted  to  express  the 
power  of  the  will  over  our  intellectual  operations,  stands  in  the 
philosophy  of  Brown  for  a modification  of  sensation  : it  is  the  state 
of  mind  in  which  “ the  increased  vividness  of  one  sensation  pro- 
duces a corresponding  faintness  of  others  co-existing  with  it.”  On 
the  same  principle,  we  find  the  theory  of  recollection,  which  de- 
scribes it  as  a species  of  voluntary  memory,  wholly^rejected,  and 
the  process  reduced  purely  to  the  laws  of  association.  In  fine, 
whether  we  regard  the  powers  of  memory,  of  judgment,  of  imagi- 
nation, or  any  collateral  phenomena,  all  these  various  forms  of  our 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


385 


mental  activity  are  shown  to  arise  from  those  fixed  laws  of  sugges- 
tion, to  the  influence  of  which  the  mind  of  man  is  subjected,  as 
absolutely  as  a machine  to  the  primum  mobile,  by  which  it  acts. 
Such  was  the  result,  and,  as  we  believe,  the  necessary  result  of  the 
theory  of  causation,  with  which  Brown  entered  upon  his  philo- 
sophical career.  Once  exclude  the  idea  of  power  from  our 
enumeration  of  the  elements  of  successive  phenomena,  and  all  we 
have  to  do  is  simply  to  set  down  the  generic  changes  which  our 
minds  undergo,  and  to  define  the  circumstances  under  which  they 
take  place,  leaving  no  place  whatever  for  the  spontaneous  action 
of  the  will,  which  then  becomes  absolutely  synonymous  with  desire. 
But  without  dwelling  longer  on  this  topic,  which  has  been  ably 
answered  by  Herschel,  Ballantyne,  Maine  de  Biran,  Cousin,  and  • 
others,  we  go  on  to  consider, 

4.  Brown’s  support  of  the  representationist  theory  of  perception, 
as  another  imperfect  feature  in  his  philosophy.  This  theory  has 
been  maintained  at  different  times  and  by  different  schools  in  a 
vast  variety  of  forms.  The  most  simple  forms  are  those  of  the 
Epicureans  and  Peripatetics,  the  former  of  whom  supposed  that 
the  mind  comes  to  a knowledge  of  material  things  by  means  of  re- 
fined substantial  effluxions  from  them — the  latter,  that  it  does  so 
by  means  of  immaterial  species  or  shadowy  films,  bearing  an  exact 
resemblance  to  the  external  object.  A more  subtile,  though  per- 
haps more  reasonable  form  of  the  same  theory  has  been  held  by 
many  philosophers  of  later  times,  (of  whom  Descartes  stands  in 
the  foreground,)  who  have  supposed  the  inward  representation  to 
be  not  a separate  existence,  but  a modification  of  the  mind  itself, 
produced,  it  may  be,  by  the  direct  intervention  of  the  Deity,  as  in 
the  doctrine  of  occasional  causes ; or  by  a pre-established  har- 
mony, as  maintained  by  Leibnitz  ; or  by  other  means  which  it  is 
not  worth  while  to  enumerate.  These  are,  in  fact,  the  particular 
forms  of  representationism  with  which  Dr.  Reid  was  acquainted, 
and  against  which  he  directed  the  chief  strength  of  his  argumen- 
tation. 

There  is,  however,  another  view  that  many  have  taken  of  the 
same  hypothesis,  which  makes  the  representative  object  a modifi- 
cation of  the  mind,  not  produced  by  any  extraneous  source,  but 
involved  in  the  very  act  of  perception  itself.  The  process  of 
vision,  for  example,  would  be  explained,  on  this  principle,  in  the 
following  manner : — The  rays  of  light  come  from  the  object  to  my 
eye,  and  impress  an  image  on  the  retina : this  impression  is  con- 

25 


386 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


veyed  by  the  optic  nerve  to  the  brain,  and  the  brain  produces  a 
change  or  modification  of  my  mind.  The  real  object  of  percep- 
tion, therefore,  it  is  argued,  is  the  change  that  takes  place  in  the 
mind  ; so  that,  instead  of  perceiving  the  external  world  itself,  we 
only  view  its  forms  and  changes  shadowed  forth  in  our  own  men- 
tal modifications.  This  was  apparently  the  opinion  of  Locke ; 
this,  the  foundation  principle  of  Berkeley’s  reasoning ; and  this, 
likewise,  the  theory  distinctly  asserted  and  maintained  by  Brown. 
Let  any  one  carefully  peruse  his  25ith  Lecture,  and  he  will  find  it 
stated,  as  clearly  as  words  can  state  it,  that  the  whole  object  of 
our  perception  is  the  mind  as  affected  in  a certain  manner,  and  ex- 
isting in  certain  states  * 

The  singularity  of  the  case,  however,  is,  that  he  was  not  him- 
self aware  of  the  difference  between  Reid’s  doctrine  of  immediate 
intuitive  perception  and  his  own  doctrine  of  representationism ; 
and  hence  the  complicated  series  of  errors  and  misconceptions, 
into  which  he  fell  in  denying  Reid’s  claim  to  the  refutation  of  the 
ideal  system.  Had  Brown  fully  understood  his  own  philosophy, 
he  must  have  seen,  that  it  could  lead  to  nothing  less  than  a species 
of  subjective  idealism,  if  not  to  absolute  unbelief ; that  cut  off  by 
it  from  any  direct  knowledge  of  the  world  without,  and  confined 
to  the  perception  of  our  own  mental  states,  we  must  totally  fail  of 
substantiating  our  faith  in  external  realities  against  the  arguments 
of  the  idealist  or  the  sceptic.  The  practical  effect  of  this  doctrine, 
it  is  true,  so  far  as  our  belief  in  the  material  world  is  concerned, 
could  not  be  very  serious,  since  our  daily  necessities  would  oblige 
us  to  act  in  contradiction  to  it ; but  its  effect  upon  our  confidence 
in  the  validity  of  human  knowledge  in  general,  must,  if  carried 
out,  become  lamentable.  The  instinctive  conviction  of  mankind 
is,  that  they  perceive  the  very  object  itself  which  is  before  them, 
and  not  a mere  representation  of  it  within  themselves : once  show 
that  this  conviction,  resting  as  it  does  upon  our  direct  conscious- 

♦ The  most  complete  view  which  has  given  been  of  the  various  hypotheses  on  percep- 
tion in  our  own,  or,  as  far  as  I am  aware,  in  any  other  language,  is  that  of  Sir  W.  Ham- 
ilton, in  his  “ Dissertations  to  Reid’s  Collected  Writings,”  Note  C.  He  divides  the 
philosophers  who  have  treated  of  the  subject,  into  A,  Presentationists — or  those  who 
advocate  an  immediate  consciousness  of  the  objective ; and  B,  Representationists — or 
those  who  advocate  a knowledge  conveyed  by  some  intermediate  process.  The  former, 
again,  are  divided  into  1.  Natural  Realists,  and  2.  Absolute  Idealists,  both  of  whom 
maintain  a direct  intuition  of  the  real  in  their  own  peculiar  sense.  The  latter,  who  are 
also  termed  Cosmothetic  Idealists,  are  divided  into  two  classes — I.  Those  who  regard 
the  representational  image  as  a mode  of  the  percipient  mind ; and  2.  Those  who  re- 
gard. it  as  something  apart  from  the  mind,  a phantasm  or  film.  To  the  first  of  this 
latter  class  Dr.  Brown  belonged,  and  ignorantly  supposed  Reid  to  belong  to  it  also. 
For  all  the  minor  shades  of  these  opinions,  see  Hamilton’s  “ Reid,”  p.  816,  et  seq. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


387 


ness,  is  false,  and  on  what  grounds  can  we  be  justified  in  trusting 
the  evidence  of  consciousness  in  other  matters  ? All  necessary 
and  universal  truth  (which  rests  upon  the  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness) is  from  henceforth  rendered  uncertain ; the  foundations  of 
our  knowledge  are  undermined ; and  we  cannot,  in  any  case,  give 
a reason  for  our  belief,  which  same  reason  in  other  cases  does  not 
prove  entirely  fallacious.  Brown  denies,  that  the  evidence  of  con- 
sciousness respecting  the  real  object  of  perception  is  to  be  trusted ; 
but,  notwithstanding,  he  trusts  that  same  evidence  implicitly,  when 
it  asserts  the  objective  existence  of  the  material  world,  or  the  other 
primary  laws  of  belief ; which  denial  and  trust  being  put  together, 
evolve  the  conclusion,  that  our  primary  beliefs  may  be  inconsistent 
with  each  other,  that  they  are  not  uniformly  valid,  and  that,  there- 
fore, nothing  can  ever  be  believed  at  all  with  an  unflinching  cer- 
tainty. 

The  great  argument  upon  which  the  representationist  system 
rests  is  this — that  things  which  are  not  homogeneous  can  have  no 
mutual  influence  upon  each  other ; that  the  relation  of  knowledge 
implies  an  identity  of  existence ; in  plainer  words,  that  matter  and 
mind  cannot  mutually  affect  each  other  directly,  just  because  they 
are  not  both  matter  or  both  mind.  This  argument,  \\&  contend, 
is  purely  asservative ; it  entirely  fails  of  support  from  reason  or 
fact,  nay,  is  contrary  to  the  very  mode  of  our  constitution,  as 
made  up  of  a mind  and  material  organism  mutually  affecting  each 
other ; and  therefore,  until  some  plea  for  it  is  produced,  hardly  re- 
quires any  to  be  urged  against  it.  The  nature  of  causality  in  the 
one  case  is  just  as  intelligible  as  in  the  other ; we  can  as  easily 
imagine  the  power  of  mind  impressing  its  influence  upon  matter, 
as  upon  another  mind  like  itself.  On  the  other  hand,  the  system 
of  representationism  in  any  form  is  beset  with  difficulties.  The 
chief  of  these  we  have  already  given  in  the  review  of  Locke,  and 
to  them,  therefore,  for  brevity’s  sake,  we  must  now  refer  the 
reader.  If  any  one,  how’ever,  wishes  to  see  the  whole  subject  dis- 
cussed fully  and  satisfactorily,  we  recommend  him  to  consult  the 
“Edinburgh  Review,”  No.  103,  where  the  philosophy  of  percep- 
tion is  developed  with  greater  depth,  and  learning,  than  perhaps 
in  any  other  work  in  our  own  language.* 

After  what  we  have  said  about  the  metaphysical  philosophy  of 
Brown,  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  make  any  distinct  reference  to 

* We  can  now  refer  the  student  likewise,  to  the  further  illustrations  of  the  philosophy 
of  perception,  which  the  author  of  the  article  here  referred  to  has  given  us  in  his  “ Dis- 
sertations on  Reid.”  See  especially  Note  D. 


388 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


his  ethics.  The  deepest  questions  in  ethical  philosophy  he  has  left 
untouched,  since  in  no  place  has  he  boldly  approached  the  subject 
of  human  liberty  or  necessitj’- ; but  the  conclusions  to  which  he 
has  come  respecting  the  nature  and  ground  of  morals,  we  believe, 
are  almost  universally  regarded  as  unsound,  even  by  those  who  are 
the  greatest  admirers  of  his  metaphysics.  His  principle  here  seems 
to  be,  that  virtue  cannot  exist  independently  of  virtuous  agents ; 
that  in  itself  it  is  a mere  abstraction,  expressing  simply  the  rela- 
tion between  certain  actions,  and  certain  emotions  which  we  feel 
in  contemplating  them.  To  this  conclusion  of  course  his  theory 
of  cause  and  effect  was  naturally  adapted  to  lead.  If  events  are 
known  simply  as  successive,  it  is  folly  to  seek  for  any  adaptation 
in  the  one  to  bring  about  the  other.  Now  in  morals  an  action  is 
one  event,  and  a certain  emotion  is  the  succeeding  one  ; the  former 
is  the  universal  antecedent,  the  latter  the  universal  consequent. 
According  to  Brown’s  philosophy,  we  have  no  ability  to  inquire 
further  into  the  matter ; the  cause  of  the  emotion  is  no  better 
known  than  efficient  causes  in  nature  are ; the  word  virtue,  which 
men  assign  as  an  objective  reality,  is  in  fact  a mere  abstraction 
expressing  the  relation  between  the  two  events,  just  as  gravitation 
is  an  abstraction  expressing  the  unknown  relation  between  two 
phenomena  in  the  natural  world.  This  conclusion,  it  is  evident, 
at  once  interdicts  the  great  question  in  morals.  What  is  the  cause 
of  virtuous  emotion  ? or  what  is  the  ground  of  moral  approbation  ? 
— it  tells  us  that  there  is  no  such  cause,  no  such  ground  to  be  dis- 
covered ; that  there  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  vicious  conduct  to 
produce  remorse,  nothing  in  the  nature  of  virtuous  conduct  to  pro- 
duce approbation ; that  the  Deity  simply  has  so  fixed  the  succes- 
sion of  events,  and  that  when  we  have  well  observed  this  succes- 
sion we  have  arrived  at  the  ultimatum  of  our  possible  knowledge. 
Of  course,  if  this  be  true,  virtue  and  vice  might  be  interchange- 
able ; and  if  the  mind  become  so  hardened  as  to  approve  of  sin, 
sin  must  at  once  become  virtue  ! The  ground  of  all  rectitude  be- 
ing our  own  personal  feeling  of  approbation,  once  let  that  appro- 
bation be  reversed,  and  the  relations  of  right  and  wrong  are  re- 
versed also. 

That  Brown  could  give  no  better  account  of  our  moral  nature 
than  this,  is  by  no  means  a matter  of  surprise,  when  we  consider 
that  there  is  no  place  in  his  system  for  the  influence  of  the  will 
properly  so  called.  To  solve  the  problem  of  the  human  conscience, 
we  must  show  that  there -is  a basis  laid  for  responsibility  in  our  free 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


389 


agency,  that  *our  free  agency  is  directed  by  intelligence,  and  our 
intelligence  stimulated  by  moral  sensibility.  Brown  has  pointed 
out  the  forms  of  our  moral  sensibility  with  great  clearness,  has 
hinted  at  the  use  of  the  understanding,  but  of  our  free  agency  has 
failed  to  give  any  satisfactory  account ; and  without  this  all  moral 
accountability  sinks  into  an  empty  name.  Deluded  by  his  psycho- 
logical principles,  he  made  no  attempt  to  penetrate  behind  the  veil 
of  our  feelings  to  the  real  world  of  moral  truth  itself ; accordingly 
he  has  left  behind  him  an  ethical  system  which  merely  plays  upon 
the  surface  of  phenomena,  but  fails  entirely  to  show  that  our  moral 
sentiments  are  grounded  in  the  eternal  nature  of  things  them- 
selves.* 

We  might  have  selected  other  points  from  the  writings  of  Brown 
to  comment  upon,  but  those  we  have  already  discussed  compre- 
hend the  most  important  instances  in  which  his  system  appears  to 
us  to  be  defective  or  erroneous.  While  we  admit  the  great  merit 
which  is  due  to  him,  on  account  of  his  classification,  and  cannot 
but  admire  the  beauty  of  many  of  his  analyses,  still  in  many  other, 
and  those  some  of  the  most  fundamental  points,  we  consider  his 
philosophy  to  have  been  a step  backwards,  rather  than  onwards  to- 
wards the  perfection  of  the  science  to  which  he  was  devoted. 

Whilst  Brown  was  thus  engaged  in  remodelling  the  philosophy 
of  his  country,  several  other  minds  were  employed  in  the  same 
work,  although,  perhaps,  with  less  genius,  yet,  certainly,  with  more 
caution.  It  was  not  to  him  alone  that  the  importance  of  a closer 
analysis  of  our  mental  phenomena  suggested  itself : we  find  a simi- 
lar tendency  decidedly  manifested  in  various  other  writers  of  the 
same  period.  Amongst  these  we  might  particularly  point  out  Dr. 
John  Young,  professor  of  moral  philosophy  in  Belfast,  who  had 
virtually  completed  his  system,  and  delivered  it,  indeed,  to  his 
class,  before  the  publication  of  Brown’s  lectures,  although  it  was 
not  published  till  the  year  1835.  Dr.  Young,  though  by  no  means 
equal  to  Brown  in  natural  acuteness  or  in  brilliancy  of  style,  yet 
added  to  a clear  and  comprehensive  intelligence  great  steadiness, 
and  patience  in  research.  This  is  proved  by  the  fact,  that  he  ar- 
rived quite  independently  of  Brown  at  a classification  virtually 
the  same,  though  unencumbered  by  any  kind  of  novel  phraseology. 

* Brown’s  lectures  on  ethics  have  just  appeared  in  a separate  form,  introduced  by  a 
preface  of  Dr.  Chalmers.  In  the  remarks  there  made  we  fully  concur ; we  only  wish 
they  had  contained  a stronger  protest  against  a theory,  which  if  developed  cuts  at  the 
very  root  of  all  “ eternal  and  immutable  morality”  in  itself,  and  all  moral  responsibiUty 
in  man. 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


3^ 

He  reduced  all  intellectual  phenomena  to  the  three 'heads  of  sen- 
sation, memory,  and  judgment,  steering  a medium  course  with 
considerable  skill  between  the  more  complicated  systems  of  Reid 
and  Stewart,  and  the  over-simplification  of  Hartley.  We  have, 
in  fact,  in  Dr.  Young  another  instance  of  the  gradual  reaction, 
which  has  been  experienced  in  Scotland  since  the  time  of  Stewart, 
in  favor  of  a more  sensational  form  of  metaphysical  philosophy ; 
for,  although  he  did  not  give  up  his  hold  upon  the  fundamental 
laws  of  man’s  belief,  yet  he  everywhere  exhibited  a strong  inclina- 
tion to  derive  many  of  our  primary  notions  from  other,  and  those 
experimental  sources.* 

It  might  be  remarked,  however,  in  justice  to  another  metaphy- 
sician of  great  ability,  who  was  long  known  as  a lecturer,  but  who 
never  appeared  prominently  in  the  literature  of  his  country  as  an 
author,  I mean  Mr.  Mylne,  the  late  professor  of  moral  philosophy 
at  Glasgow,  that  Young  unquestionably  borrowed  much  of  his 
system  from  the  class-room  of  that  distinguished  philosopher. 
From  what  I have  learned  of  those  who  attended  his  lectures,  and 
what  I have  seen  of  the  impulse  they  gave  in  prosecuting  the  work 
of  intellectual  analysis,  I think  there  can  be  little  doubt,  but  that 
his  mind  told  forcibly  upon  the  philosophy  of  Scotland  during  the 
many  years  of  his  professorship.  The  tendency  of  his  influence, 
as  of  those  before  mentioned,  was  decidedly  sensational ; of  this 
character  were  his  analyses  of  many  of  our  intellectual  ideas ; of 
this  character,  also,  was  his  firm  support  of  utilitarianism  in  morals  ; 
yet,  we  believe,  he  explained  his  views  in  such  a manner,  as  not 
materially  to  injure  those  great  principles  of  belief  for  which  Reid 
had  so  earnestly  contended.  Somewhat  of  a similar  tendency  is 
the  work  of  the  Rev.  John  Ballantyne  on  the  human  mind,  the 
whole  of  which  is  marked  with  considerable  analytical  acumen, 
and  a corresponding  tendency  to  reduce  the  laws  of  thought  to  a 
few  simple  elements.  At  the  same  time  care  is  taken,  here  also, 
not  to  open  the  door  to  scepticism  by  invalidating  our  primary  be- 
liefs ; and  the  conclusions,  even  of  Brown  himself,  in  some  points, 
especially  that  of  causation,  are  very  forcibly  repelled. 

Whilst  the  writings  of  Ballantyne  may  be  truly  said  to  be  less 
popular  than  they  deserve,  we  must  mention  another  philosopher 
of  the  Scottish  school,  who  we  considei’,  has,  on  the  contrary,  ob- 
tained a philosophical  reputation  considerably  beyond  his  real 

* Young’s  lectures  were  published  after  his  death,  together  with  a short  biography 
of  the  author,  by  William  Cairns,  A.M.,  professor  of  logic  at  Belfast. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


391 


merits — I mean  the  late  Dr.  Abercrombie.  That  there  is  great 
intelligence,  a tone  of  lofty  morality,  and  much  sincere  piety  per- 
vading his  writings,  we  are  glad  to  admit,  but  as  works  of  philoso- 
phy, they  can  never  occupy  any  other  than  a very  inferior  position. 
With  the  real  history  of  metaphysics,  with  its  more  lofty  specula- 
tions, with  its  sublimest  theories,  the  author  was  manifestly  entirely 
unacquainted.  He  looked  upon  every  question  simply  from  an 
expei'imental  point  of  view  ; and  whatever  lay  without  its  precincts 
was  set  down  as  vague  and  uncertain  hypothesis,  whose  mists 
were  forever  dispersed  by  a purer  light.  Laying  aside  the  use 
which  the  Doctor  makes  of  his  medical  knowledge,  and  of  the  facts 
which  have  come  under  his  notice,  his  works  only  remind  us  of 
Reid  without  his  depth,  of  Stewart  without  his  learning,  of  Brown 
without  his  genius.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  remembered, 
that  Dr.  Abercrombie  never  aspired  to  the  title  of  being  a great 
philosopher.  Few  men,  we  understand,  stood  higher  than  he  did 
as  a Christian  and  a philanthropist,  and  we  are  willing  to  believe, 
that  his  labors  in  philosophy  were  rather  intended  to  christianize 
the  moral  thinking  of  his  country,  than  to  throw  additional  light 
upon  the  more  abstruse  questions  of  human  research. 

We  shall  now  attempt  to  sum  up  our  sketch  of  the  Scottish  phi- 
losophy by  a few  remarks,  which  may  tend  to  illustrate  its  general 
nature,  and  point  out  the  position  it  holds  in  connection  with  the 
other  systems,  which  history  and  personal  observation  present. 
And,  first  of  all,  its  great  excellency,  we  imagine,  consists  in  its 
having  confirmed,  and  to  a great  extent  perfected,  the  true  method 
of  metaphysical  research.  Bacon  destroyed  the  influence  which 
the  syllogistic  organum  had  exercised  upon  the  minds  of  men  for 
centuries  past,  and  furnished  the  right  key  to  the  temple  of  knowl- 
edge. Descartes  adapted  the  Baconian  px'inciples  to  the  study  of 
metaphysics,  but  was  too  much  encumbered  by  a mass  of  a priori 
assumptions  (though  delivered  in  the  form  of  arguments)  to  make 
steady  progression  in  the  science.  Locke  employed  the  Baconian 
method  with  far  more  success,  having  first  learned  to  reject  the 
most  material  errors  of  the  Cartesian  philosophy  ; but  he,  too,  was 
still  confused  by  the  phraseology  of  former  systems,  and  biassed  by 
the  representationist  hypothesis  concerning  ideas.  Reid  was  one 
of  the  first,  who,  taking  the  inductive  method  for  his  guide,  formed 
by  the  light  it  afforded,  the  conception  of  a purely  reflective  method 
of  mental  analysis,  which  should  take  its  stand  upon  the  most  inti- 
mate facts  of  the  human  consciousness. 


392 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


The  long-standing  doctrine  of  ideas,  the  empirical  scepticism  of 
Hume,  the  lingering  remnants  of  the  Cartesian  assumptions,  all 
fell  one  after  the  other  before  him  ; and  upon  their  ruins  he  laid 
the  foundations  of  a new  system  of  mental  philosophy,  free  from 
all  illegitimate  hypothesis  and  proceeding  throughout  upon  strictly 
scientific  principles.  Just  as  the  students  of  physical  science  be- 
fore Bacon — not  content  with  the  simple  employment  of  collating 
and  interpreting  facts — sought  some  hypothetical  explanation  of 
them,  quite  independent  of  all  actual  experience ; so,  the  mass  of 
intellectual  philosophers  previous  to  Reid,  were  not  able  to  divest 
their  minds  of  the  necessity  of  explaining  the  simple  facts  of  sensa- 
tion, intellection,  &c.,  by  some  theory  which  could  never  be  veri- 
fied. Reid  performed  an  inestimable  service  to  philosophy,  when 
he  showed,  that  such  simple  processes  must  be  viewed  as  ultimate 
and  primitive  facts  in  our  constitution,  which  carry  with  them 
their  own  evidence,  and  admit  of  no  explanation ; nay,  that  the 
very  attempt  to  interpret  them  only  plunges  us  farther  into  dark- 
ness and  uncertainty. 

The  illustration  and  full  application  of  the  true  psychological 
method,  then,  we  regard  as  the  main  service  of  the  Scottish  phi- 
losophy— a service  which  has  not  been  lost  upon  the  age,  and  the 
ulterior  benefit  of  which  has  yet  to  be  developed  in  coming  gene- 
rations. On  the  other  hand,  the  main  defects  of  the  Scottish 
school,  particularly  since  the  time  of  Reid,  have  attached  them- 
selves to  these  two  points — First,  the  false  or  at  least  inadequate 
view  it  has  taken  of  the  reflective  method  in  mental  philosophy — 
and,  secondly,  the  want  of  comprehensiveness,  superinduced  by 
that  inadequacy,  as  to  the  legitimate  objects  and  extent  of  philos- 
ophy at  large.  With  regard  to  the  former  of  these  points,  let  it  be 
kept  in  mind,  that  the  great  ambition  of  the  Scottish  philosophy,  as 
seen  in  Stewart  and  his  successors,  has  been  to  establish  the  purely 
inductive  method  of  procedure  as  employed  in  the  Baconian  school. 
The  nature  of  this  method  is  perfectly  simple : it  enjoins  a full  and 
adequate  observation  of  facts,  and  then,  from  particular  instances, 
rises  through  several  stages  of  generalization,  to  the  laws  which 
regulate  their  succession.  Here,  of  course,  there  can  be  no  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  real  objects  of  research ; their  essen- 
tial nature  escapes  all  mere  observation,  for  their  latent  powers 
and  processes  can  never  be  made  the  matter  of  perceptive  or  in- 
ductive knowledge.  On  the  other  hand,  when  we  scan  the  con- 
tents of  our  own  consciousness  by  the  power  of  refection,  we  are 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


393 


engaged  in  a very  different  process  from  that  of  mere  induction, 
and  attain  a very  different  kind  of  knowledge  respecting  the  real 
object  of  our  research.  In  the  former  case,  (that  of  induction,) 
we  can  only  know  our  object  by  mere  phenomenal  observation ; 
in  the  latter  we  know  it  by  a direct  consciousness.  In  the  one 
case,  we  can  only  form  a general  notion  of  it  by  a process  of  ab- 
straction ; in  the  other  we  have  an  immediate  and  concrete  apper- 
ception thereof.  In  the  one  case  we  know  nothing  of  its  internal 
or  essential  constitution ; in  the  other  we  are  enabled  by  reflection 
to  catch  the  very  forms  of  our  inmost  activity. 

To  say  that  essences  and  causes  are  equally  unknown  whether 
in  mind  or  matter  (as  the  Scottish  school  has  so  often  reiterated), 
implies  a subtle  misunderstanding  of  the  very  nature  of  I'efiection 
as  a mode  of  psychological  research.  Our  knowledge  of  mind  in 
the  act  of  reflective  consciousness,  is  perfectly  adequate — it  reaches 
the  whole  extent  of  its  essence — it  comprehends  the  intuition  of  its 
existence  as  a power  or  activity,  and  likewise  the  observation  of  all 
its  determinations.  To  talk  of  knowing  mind  beyond  the  direct 
consciousness  of  its  spontaneous  being,  and  all  the  affections  which 
it  can  undergo,  is  absurd ; — there  is  nothing  more  to  know ; the 
only  reason  why  we  seem  to  know  it  so  little  is,  that  the  process 
of  knowing  it  at  all  reflectively  and  philosophically  is  so  difficult, 
that  there  are  very  few  who  make  much  way  in  that  species  of 
introspection  which  it  demands.  This  knowledge,  however,  when 
attained  to,  is  a very  different  thing  from  the  mere  classification  of 
phenomena,  and  leads  to  a very  different  result. 

To  develop  this  difference,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  in  rational 
psychology,  when  we  have  observed  and  made  our  classification 
of  the  actual  facts  of  consciousness  as  we  find  them,  we  have  only 
begun  our  labor.  The  next  thing  after  this,  is  to  trace  these  facts 
up  to  their  origin  ; to  discover  not  merely  the  law  of  operation,  but 
the  reason  of  that  law  ; to  point  out  not  only  the  reality  of  certain 
principles,  but  also  their  absolute  necessity.  To  ask  respecting  a 
law  of  succession  in  the  material  world,  why  it  must  be  so,  is  going 
altogether  beyond  the  due  limits  of  induction ; but  to  seek  the  ab- 
solute and  necessary  ground  of  our  mental  phenomena,  is  fairly 
within  the  province  of  reflection,  because  of  the  intimate  knowl- 
edge which  consciousness  gives  us  of  mind,  as  at  once  subject  and 
object.* 

* I cannot  give  a better  instance  of  this  research  into  the  ultimate  principle  of  men- 
tal phenomena,  than  the  following  remark  of  Sir  W,  Hamilton  : — “ An  exposition  of 
the  axiom  that  positive  thought  lies  in  the  limitation  or  conditioning  of  one  or  other  of 


394 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


So  far,  then,  we  proceed  onwards  in  the  subjective  sphere,  seek- 
ing all  the  while  the  laws  and  principles  of  thought,  not  the  nnys- 
teries  of  being.  But  now  a third  problem  opens  before  us,  namely, 
to  sound  the  legitimacy  of  our  knowledge — to  show  Jiow  far  the 
phenomena  of  consciousness  give  us  the  realities  of  existence  ; to 
pass  in  this  way  from  the  subjective  to  the  objective  region  of 
philosophical  research.  Now  the  link  of  connection  between  these 
two  regions  is  found  in  the  Idea  of  a Cause.  The  first  thing  in 
the  philosophy  of  causation,  of  course,  is  to  observe  the  simple  and 
palpable /aci,  that  on  the  perception  of  successive  events  we  have 
the  notion  of  a cause.  This,  all  admit  as  a fact,  even  Hume  him- 
self. The  next  thing  is  to  trace  this  notion  of  a cause  back  to  its 
origin.  Hume,  on  his  sensational  principles,  attributed  it  all  to 
association  ; a deeper  philosophy,  on  the  contrary,  has  referred  it 
to  a fundamental  principle  of  our  nature — namely,  the  principle  of 
causality,  which,  as  possessing  the  character  of  universality  and 
necessity,  may  be  looked  upon  as  an  absolute  principle,  such  as 
could  only  exist  in  fundamental,  not  at  all  in  merely  inductive 
philosophy.  Now  it  is,  then,  that  having  observed  the  actual  fact 
of  the  case,  and  having  traced  it  to  the  primitive  principle,  there 
arises  the  further  question — how  far  does  this  subjective  principle 
contain  the  evidence  of  an  objective  reality,  and  by  what  means 
may  we  pass  from  thought  to  existence?  To  find  this  passage,  we 
must  look  to  the  point  where  thought  and  existence  actually  unite, 
and  that  point  of  union  is  the  mind  itself.  Mind  is  both  object 
and  subject  at  once.  Viewed  as  a succession  of  internal  processes, 
it  is  simply  an  object  exhibiting  various  forms  of  thought,  feeling, 
&c.,  but  nothing  more : on  the  contrary,  to  the  pure  internal  con- 
sciousness, it  is  a subject — a real  activity,  an  essence,  a being. 
Thus  cause  is  a mere  notion,  and  causality  is  a necessary  principle, 
both  of  them  subjective ; but  our  intuitive  consciousness  detects 
still  further  an  activity,  a real  spontaneous  existence,  a noumenon, 
of  which  the  principle  of  causality  is  a form  or  determination. 

Having  found,  then  a veritable  existence  distinct  from  mere 
phenomenon  in  the  depth  of  our  own  consciousness,  and  con- 
cealed under  the  principle  of  causality,  we  can  proceed  onwards 

two  extremes,  neither  of  which,  as  unconditioned,  can  be  realized  to  the  mind  as  possi- 
ble, and  yet  of  which,  as  contradictories,  one  or  other  must,  by  the  fundamental  laws 
of  thought,  be  recognized  as  necessary — the  exposition  of  this  great  but  unenounced 
axiom  would  show,  that  some  of  the  most  illustrious  principles  are  only  its  subordinate 
modifications,  as  applied  to  certain  primary  notions,  intuitions,  data,  forms  or  categories 
of  intelligence, — as  existence,  quantity,  quality,  &c.  Such  modifications,  for  example, 
are  the  principles  of  cause  and  effect,  substance  and  phenomenon,”  &c. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


395 


in  the  objective  sphere  to  a wider  observation.  In  like  manner  as 
inward  intuition  gives  us  a direct  apperception  of  the  soul  as  a 
real  existing  activity,  so  outward  intuition,  or  perception,  gives  us 
a direct  knowledge  of  the  material  world,  as  something  distinct 
from  the  me.  Here,  as  in  the  other  case,  we  have  the  principle  of 
causality  as  a link  between  subject  and  object — ^between  thought 
and  existence.  For  perception  itself,  which  Reid  assumed  as  an 
absolutely  primitive  fact  of  mind,  is  really  but  an  application  of 
the  principle  of  causality.  In  perception,  we  perceive  a relation 
between  subject  and  object,  the  nature  of  which  is  the  follow- 
ing:— All  those  phenomena  which  refer  to  the  soul  itself,  are 
known  by  direct  consciousness  to  spring  from  its  own  activity — 
the  phenomena  of  perception,  however,  we  feel  to  be  the  qualities 
of  some  objective  existence  operating  upon  us.  The  affirmation, 
immediate  and  instinctive,  of  a real  objective  cause  exerting  its 
power  upon  us,  is  the  most  ultimate  fact  in  perception  ;*  so  that  it 
is  the  direct  consciousness  of  self,  as  a force  or  cause,  which  leads 
us  onward  in  the  objective  sphere  of  knowledge  to  the  affirmation 
and  intuition  of  a not-self — an  external  world  as  a counter  force,  f 
Here,  however,  the  process  does  not  come  to  an  end.  The 
powers  of  nature  are  dependent,  relative,  and  finite  ; they  all  point 
us,  therefore,  to  a self-existent  unity  of  power,  from  which  they 
sprang.  The  power  of  mind,  as  an  intelligent  cause,  or  person- 
ality, is  relative  and  finite  also ; and  this  points  us  to  an  infinite 
and  absolute  personality.  Combine  the  notions  of  a unity  of  all 
power  as  seen  in  nature,  and  a perfect  type  of  all  personality  as 
seen  in  man,  and  we  have  the  conception  of  a God.  Of  God  as 
the  infinite,  the  absolute,  accordingly,  we  have  a direct  appercep- 
tion. The  light  of  primitive  truth  falls  immediately  upon  the  eye 
of  the  soul.  Had  we  to  reason  ourselves  into  the  existence  of  the 
material  world,  and  were  we  to  define  perception  as  the  act  of  the 
mind  in  conducting  this  reasoning  to  its  result,  we  should  never 
find  our  way  out  of  the  subjective  circle.  Perception,  however,  is 
a direct  gazing  upon  the  world  without,  by  the  medium  of  its  im- 
mediate action  upon  ourselves,  and  here,  in  this  spontaneous  re- 
ception of  truth,  we  find  the  objectively  real.  Exactly  in  the  same 
manner,  had  we  to  reason  up  to  the  absolute,  all  we  could  do 
would  be  to  personify  our  ideas ; but  pure  reason,  like  pure  per- 
ception, receives  objective  truth  spontaneously : it  gazes  upon  its 

♦ See  Cousin’s  “ Cours  de  Phil.  Moderne — Ecole  Ecossaise,”  p.  428. 

•f  Hence  the  idea  of  substance  is  identical  with  that  of  cause,  and  the  dynamical 
theory  of  the  world  is  established. 


396 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


object  with  an  immediacy  which  suffers  no  error  or  doubt  to  in- 
tervene, and  gives  in  this  way  a guarantee  for  its  legitimacy, 
which  it  is  impossible  to  resist.  “ When,”  observes  Cousin,  on 
the  occasion  of  a finite  contingent  relative  existence,  which  ex- 
perience attests,  “ I conceive  the  infinite,  the  necessary,  the  ab- 
solute, the  universal ; when  in  presence  of  the  phenomena  which 
I observe  in  the  woi'ld,  I contemplate  the  great  laws  of  that  world, 
those  laws  which  form  the  harmony  of  its  movements,  the  order 
and  beauty  of  its  plan ; when  in  retiring  within  the  precincts  of 
my  own  nature,  I attach  the  phenomena  so  variable  and  evanes- 
cent which  I behold  there  to  one  simple,  identical,  and  immovable 
essence,  I do  not  imagine,  I do  not  dream,  I do  not  compose,  I 
simply  conceive.  My  conception  is  a necessary  and  legitimate  act 
of  my  mind,  as  much  as  the  most  simple  perception.” 

On  what  authority,  then,  we  ask,  do  these  pure  conceptions 
rest  ? what  is  it  that  separates  them  from  the  fictions  of  imagina- 
tion ? why  do  I know  my  imaginations  to  be  mere  fictions,  whilst 
I attribute  a real  objective  existence  to  the  Infinite  Being,  to  the 
laws  of  the  universe,  to  the  essence  of  the  soul  ? Here  are  ques- 
tions grounded  indeed  upon  the  facts  of  our  consciousness,  but  re- 
quiring as  answer,  somewhat  more  than  a mere  classification  of 
facts  ; requiring,  in  truth,  nothing  less  than  a critick  of  those 
pui'ely  rational,  or  metaphysical  intuitions,  in  which  the  first  pi'in- 
ciples  of  ontology  are  grounded.  So  far  then  with  regard  to  the 
reflective  method ; let  us  now  see  how  the  scope  of  philosophy  be- 
comes enlarged,  under  its  auspices. 

In  physical  science  it  is  a well-known  canon,  that  the  higher 
be  the  generalization  we  attain  to,  and  the  more  primitive  the  law 
we  evolve,  just  so  much  the  more  powerfully  and  fruitfully  can  we 
reason  downwards  by  a deductive  process,  to  the  development  of 
those  “ axiomata  media”  in  which  our  knowledge  mainly  consists. 
Exactly  so  is  it  also  in  the  philosophy  of  mind.  If  the  philosophy 
of  mind  be  merely  that  experimental  classification  of  the  more 
obvious  facts,  which  is  all  that  many  understand  under  the  name 
of  psychology,  then  the  applications  of  it  can  be  only  very  few 
and  very  fruitless : it  can  simply  take  its  rank  among  the  sec- 
ondary sciences  of  observation  ; and  even  there  can  challenge 
comparatively  little  interest.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  by  inward 
reflection  we  can  trace  our  ideas  up  to  their  primitive  and  neces- 
sary forms,  if  we  can  take  a deeper  insight  into  the  working  of 
mind,  as  the  agent  in  all  human  endeavor ; if,  separating  the  mat- 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


397 


ter  of  our  knowledge  from  the  form,  we  can  gaze  upon  the  actual 
types  and  processes  of  all  thought ; then  it  is  evident  we  can 
reason  downwards  deductively  with  far  greater  power  and  far 
more  fruitful  results  upon  all  the  primary  branches  of  human  re- 
search. 

A sound  theory  of  morals,  for  example,  can  only  be  looked  for 
when  w'e  start  from  this  intimate  view  of  mind  as  a spontaneous 
activity.  For  want  of  this  a world  of  false  reasoning  has  been 
employed  to  sink  us  down  to  the  hypothesis  of  utter  fatalism,  or 
what  is  virtually  the  same  thing,  of  a philosophical  necessity.  The 
due  comprehension  of  the  religious  nature,  again,  can  never  be 
hoped  for  except  it  be  brought  up  to  light  from  the  very  depth  of 
our  being.  History  can  only  be  studied  philosophically,  by  track- 
ing the  development  of  fundamental  ideas  along  the  pathway  of 
human  civilization.  Sociology  will  only  advance  in  proportion  as 
the  most  intimate  constitution  of  human  nature  is  unfolded,  and  its 
spiritual  laws  laid  bare.  In  a word,  whatever  depends  upon  the 
development  of  human  thought,  can  only  be  placed  in  the  daylight 
of  science,  by  a philosophy  which  sinks  beneath  the  mere  classifi- 
cation of  phenomena,  down  to  the  appreciation  of  the  more  inti- 
mate laws  and  principles  of  the  human  mind. 

Still  greater  become  the  applications  of  a fundamental  philoso- 
phy, when  from  the  pure  apperception  of  the  infinite  we  descend 
with  the  torch  of  divine  truth  in  our  hands,  and  re-enter  the 
regions  of  nature  and  humanity.  Nature  now  becomes  all  radiant 
with  idea.  We  see  in  its  wondrous  forms  of  beauty  and  marvel- 
lous processes,  the  thought  of  Deity  embodying  itself  in  the  finite ; 
while  man,  the  highest  expression  of  creative  power,  becomes  a 
sphere  of  philosophical  observation,  in  which  we  can  study  the 
highest  truths  of  the  Divine  nature  and  perfections.  In  a word, 
only  let  us  begin  with  a deep  reflective  consciousness  of  the  human 
soul,  with  its  innate  powers  and  spiritual  laws,  and  the  fruitfulness 
of  our  philosophy,  as  it  gradually  develops,  stands  in  the  most 
marked  contrast  with  x\\q fruitlessness  which  has  ever  attended,  and 
confessedly  must  attend,  a mere  experimental  psychology.  In  truth, 
wherever  such  schools  of  psychology  have  conferred  any  benefit  on 
philosophy  at  all,  they  have  only  done  so  by  stepping  out  of  the 
experimental  sphere  into  the  fundamental  and  reflective ; just  as 
Reid  did,  when  he  established  his  theory  of  immediate  perception, 
and  as  the  Scottish  school  now  does,  when  it  stands  up  for  the 


398 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


validity  of  the  respective  principles  of  causality  and  teleology,  in 
the  grounds  of  its  natural  theology. 

Viewed,  then,  in  this  light,  metaphysical  philosophy,  instead  of 
being  a science  having  its  own  separate  objects,  and  co-ordinate 
with  other  sciences,  is  really  a kind  of  “ prima  philosophia,”  which 
underlies  all  the  rest.  It  is  conversant,  in  a sense,  with  every  ob- 
ject ; it  touches  upon  the  whole  matter  of  human  knowledge  ; only 
it  seeks  to  trace  it  up  to  first  principles,  to  exhibit  the  abstract 
forms  under  which  it  must  be  viewed,  and  to  show  the  primary 
laws  from  which  it  springs.  In  this  sense  there  is  a philosophy  of 
nature,  a philosophy  of  art,  a philosophy  of  religion,  a philosophy 
of  history,  as  well  as  a philosophy  of  mind ; every  branch  of  hu- 
man knowledge  may,  in  fact,  be  traced  back  till  it  come  within  that 
small  circle  of  the  sphere  which  metaphysical  science  claims  as  its 
own  peculiar  province.  Hence  philosophy,  in  its  highest  applica- 
tion, is  the  reference  of  the  contingent  to  the  absolute,  the  ground- 
ing of  facts  in  their  necessary  principles ; it  is  the  science  which 
looks  beneath  the  phenomenal  world  either  of  matter  or  mind,  and 
inquires  into  the  ultimate  realities  of  both.* 

* I have  been  somewhat  more  explicit  on  the  above  points  than  before,  to  prevent 
such  misunderstandings  as  the  learned  and  excellent  author  of  the  review  of  my  first 
edition,  in  the  “ North  British,”  has  unwarily  fallen  into.  He  says  of  my  former 
remarks,  (No.  xii,  p.  318,)  “We  have  really  been  making  it  an  express  effort  to  ascer- 
tain the  starting  point  of  this  ontology,”  or  ‘ loftier  region  of  thought,’  over  which  he 
longs  to  expatiate,  and  to  scale  the  heights  of  the  ‘ Prima  Philosophia,’  and  all  that  we 
can  find,  all  that  he  himself  alleges,  is  but  these  three  substrata  to  come  and  go  upon. 
Now,  though,  by  a fundamental  law  of  the  human  understanding,  we  believe  in  a 
substratum  for  the  Deity — a substratum  for  man — a substratum  for  the  universe,  we 
cannot  for  our  lives  imagine  what  more  we  know  of  them  than  that  they  barely  exist ; 
nor  how  it  is  that  these  three  bare  entities  can  be  turned,  like  geometrical  definitions, 
into  the  germs  of  reasoning  and  endless  discovery.  W’e  fear  that  they  will  be  of  as 
little  avail  for  progress  as  the  abstract  ideas  of  Plato.  However,  we  say,  let  him  again 
try,  but  would  further  bid  our  aspiring  young  pliilosopher  ‘ remember  Kant’s  dove.’  * ♦ ♦ 
It  might  restrain  many  an  Ixionic  flight,” 

I beg  to  assure  my  friendly  critic,  that  I sA/rtl  try  again  and  again,  until  something 
more  fruitful  than  Scotch  psychology  comes  of  it ; in  the  meantime,  however,  I must 
put  my  “ prima  philosophia”  upon  a fairer  footing  than  that  upon  which  he  has  left  it 
to  stand.  Let  us  ap|)ly,  first,  the  argumentum  ad  hoininem.  The  critic  believes  in  a 
substratum  for  the  soul — the  world — the  Deity.  On  what  ground  I Upon  a funda- 
mental law  of  the  human  understanding.  But  how  is  the  validity  of  this  law  estab- 
lished 1 Not  by  a mere  inductive  psychology,  but,  simply  and  solely,  by  this  very 
“prima  philosophia,”  this  very  ontology,  which  is  so  decried.  When  Descartes  estab- 
lished the  spirituality  of  the  soul  by  his  reflective  process — his  “ Cogito  ergo  sum” — he 
performed  an  office  for  which  Reid  could  speak  of  him  with  deepest  admiration.  When 
Reid  himself  overturned  the  scepticism  of  Hume,  and  established  his  theory  of  percep- 
tion, he  too  was  working  altogether  in  the  region  of  a “ prima  philosophia,”  and  on 
that  ground  alone  has  occupied  his  high  place  in  the  philosophical  world.  Nay,  when 
the  critic  himself,  in  his  own  eloquent  style,  argued  out  the  being  of  a God  on  the 
principle  oi final,  cavs.es,  on  what  was  all  the  strength  of  his  argument  based,  but  upon 
the  objective  validity  of  the  human  reasor/in  these  its  fundamental  laws  1 The  Carte- 
sian and  the  Scottish  principles  on  these  topics  are  alike  purely  ontological.  Take 
away  their  ontological  force,  and  they  are  valueless. 

But  we  are  anxious  that  the  vieaning  of  ontology  should  be  cleared  up  a little. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


399 


We  must  proceed,  however,  to  make  good  our  view  of  the  Scot- 
tish school  in  this  particular,  by  a little  closer  examination  of  its 
main  positions.  The  primitive  elements  of  all  our  knowledge,  as 
we  have  often  repeated,  are  finite  mind,  nature,  and  God.  The 
Scottish  philosophy  contains  all  three  of  these  ideas  reflectively, 
but  it  regards  them  all  from  an  experimental,  rather  than  an  ab- 
stract or  a fundamental  point  of  view ; and  on  that  account  cannot 
be  regarded  as  sufficiently  deep  in  its  researches. 

1.  Let  us  view  this  as  it  regards  the  notion  of  finite  mind.  This 
forms,  without  doubt,  the  chief  element  in  their  metaphysics  (and 
on  this  ground  it  is  that  we  have  classed  them  under  the  head  of 
idealism) ; but  what  have  we  from  that  school  which  can  answer 
to  the  idea  of  being  a philosophy  of  human  natui’e,  spiritually  con- 
sidered, in  its  fullest  extent  ? The  more  obvious  phenomena  of 
mind,  it  is  true,  as  they  appear  in  the  individual,  are  investigated 
and  classified  by  it,  with  much  patience  and  success  ; but  this  be- 
ing done,  little  attempt  is  made  to  refer  such  phenomena  to  their 
primary  and  fundamental  principles.  In  this  respect  it  differs 
widely  from  the  critical  philosophy  of  Kant.  Kant  began  his 
critick  by  investigating  the  conditions  on  which  philosophy  at  all 
is  possible ; he  undertook  to  survey  the  whole  extent  of  our  con- 
sciousness, to  show  the  grounds  of  all  human  knowledge,  and  the 
limits  to  which  it  is  confined.  To  accomplish  this,  it  was  not  suffi- 
cient either  to  reduce  our  various  mental  states  to  a few  general 
heads,  or  to  enumerate  a number  of  primitive  facts  attested  by 
common  sense  to  be  infallibly  true ; it  was  necessary  to  go  a step 
further,  and  to  discover  the  very  laws  of  our  mental  constitution 

The  critic  says  above,  “ that  he  can  find  it  in  nothing  but  the  three  bare  substrata  be- 
forementioned  to  come  and  go  upon.”  Now,  we  beg  to  observe,  that  ontology  has 
nothing  to  do  with  bare  undelcrmhicd  existence.  This  is,  in  fact,  a mere  fiction  of  the 
imagination.  Abstract  being  is  a nonentity,  and  the  Hegelian  equation  Seyn  equal  to 
Nichts  is  perfectly  true.  Ontology  has  to  do  with  being  in  its  most  fundamental  de- 
terminations and  necessary  laws,  so  far  as  they  can  be  ascertained.  It  strives  to  look 
beneath  phenomena,  as  mere  matters  of  observation  and  induction.  But  it  never 
attempts  to  view  bare  undetermined  existence,  for  the  very  sufficient  reason,  that  no 
such  existence  has  a being  out  of  our  own  abstractions.  Ontology,  however,  in  its 

Sr  department,  has  assuredly  reasoned  out  many  a fundamental  truth.  It  has 
J deeply  into  the  inmost  constitution  of  the  soul,  and  done  far  more  than  merely 
classify  phenomena ; it  has  well-nigh  established  a dynamical  theory  of  the  material 
world ; it  is  pushing  onwards  its  investigations  into  the  nature  of  life,  showing  it  to  be 
the  result  of  antagonistic  forces ; it  is  trying  to  show  how  all  things  subsist  in  God, 
without  driving  us  into  the  abyss  of  pantheism.  To  whatever  extent  such  generaliza- 
tions can  be  safely  carried  on,  they  do  become  as  fruitful  as  geometrical  definitions; 
they  pour  new  light  into  every  prominent  region  of  human  research,  and  give  us  a dis- 
tant glimpse  of  the  hope,  that  some  day  our  knowledge  may  verily  find  its  unity  in  this 
very  Prima  Philosophia  itself  Doubtless  many  an  Ixionic  flight  will  take  place  here, 
as  in  everything  else,  before  the  high  argument  is  fully  reached  ; but  we  prefer  to  fly 
even  with  the  chance  of  an  occasional  fall,  than  to  do  like  the  Scottish  psychology — 
never  to  soar  at  all.  We  are  convinced  that  our  wings  are  not  all  waxen. 


400 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


upon  which  these  primitive  beliefs  rest.  In  doing  this  he  took  care 
to  separate  the  subjective  element  from  the  objective  in  all  our  con- 
ceptions ; he  showed  how  much  of  every  notion  comes  from  with- 
out, and  how  much  from  within  ; what  portion  of  it  is  due  to  the  ex- 
ternal phenomenon,  and  what  is  due  to  the  mind  itself,  by  means  of 
which  it  is  comprehended  ; and  thus  he  arrived  (we  will  not  now 
determine  how  correctly)  at  the  subjective  conditions  under  which 
everything  is  necessarily  viewed,  at  the  very  forms  or  categories 
of  the  understanding.  Whatever  opinion  we  may  have  of  Kant’s 
peculiar  theory  in  this  respect,  unquestionably  it  was  an  aim  wor- 
thy his  all-comprehensive  genius,  to  seek  for  the  groundwork  of 
our  universal  notions  in  the  depths  of  our  own  being,  and  thus  to 
refer  all  the  principles  of  common  sense,  all  the  primary  laws  of 
belief,  back  to  their  source  in  the  subjective  forms  of  the  under- 
standing and  the  reason.  No  such  survey  of  the  human  conscious- 
ness have  we  in  Reid  himself,  much  less  so  in  his  successors. 

There  is  another  point,  to  which  we  must  next  refer,  in  respect 
of  which  the  Scottish  school  has  ever  been  defective.  While  it 
has  investigated  the  phenomena  of  the  individual  mind  with  much 
ability,  it  has  neglected  the  phenomena  of  mind  in  the  aggregate, 
as  seen  in  the  historical  development  of  humanitj^  at  large.  The 
philosophy  of  history  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  branches  of 
intellectual  science.  We  look  back  to  the  earlier  periods  of  the 
world,  and  we  see  men  existing  in  a primitive  state  with  none  of 
the  arts  of  life,  none  of  the  results  of  science,  none  of  the  refine- 
ments of  society.  We  see  them  soon  combining  for  mutual  benefit 
or  defence  into  larger  communities,  and  beginning  to  cultivate 
some  of  the  simple  branches  of  literature  and  philosophy.  The 
Asiatic  monarchies,  after  having  thus  gradually  risen  and  played 
their  part  in  the  destinies  of  the  world,  are  overthrown  by  a more 
energetic  race,  among  whom  poetry,  eloquence,  and  philosophy 
are  brought  to  a hitherto  unknown  degree  of  perfection.  These 
again  are  swallowed  up  by  the  gigantic  power  of  the  Roman  empire, 
which  having  itself  been  imbued  with  a new  element  by  the  power 
of  Christianity,  casts  the  seed  of  moral  and  spiritual  vitality  among 
the  rude  barbarian  tribes  by  w'hich  it  is  itself  overwhelmed,  and 
thus  prepares  the  way  for  the  grand  display  of  moral  and  intellec- 
tual power  which  the  Christian  civilization  has  exhibited  upon  the 
theatre  of  the  modern  world.  It  is  the  part  of  intellectual  philoso- 
phy to  trace  the  great  ideas  which  have  aided,  or  rather  forced  on- 
wards the  advancement  of  mankind ; to  show  under  what  mental 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


401 


circumstances  every  nation  has  emerged  from  its  darkness;  by 
what  laws  it  has  progressed ; and  how  each  one  has  in  its  turn 
contributed  to  the  development  of  the  mighty  elements,  which  ever 
lay  potentially  in  the  bosom  of  humanity.  The  history  of  civil 
institutions,  of  art,  of  science,  of  literature,  nay,  the  history  of 
philosophy  itself,  each  has  its  philosophy  ; all,  in  fact,  being  so 
many  different  phenomena,  which  the  human  mind  viewed  in  the 
aggregate  presents,  and  which  must  be  carefully  taken  into  ac- 
count, if  we  would  rightly  estimate  its  capacity,  and  trace  the  in- 
fluences under  which  it  has  been  unfolded. 

This  again  leads  us  to  the  great  problem  of  human  life,  and  -of 
human  destiny.  What  purpose  is  the  mind  of  man  intended  to 
answer  in  the  world?  and  to  what  point  is  it  tending?  If  there 
be  one  fact  of  our  consciousness  more  manifest  than  another,  it  is 
that  the  spirit  finds  not  its  full  satisfaction  upon  earth.  Why  are 
we  placed,  then,  in  a state  where  suffering  is  certain,  more  or  less, 
to  imbitter  our  days,  and  where  joy,  when  we  obtain  it,  is  but  a. 
transitory  glimpse  of  a happiness  which  we  may  conceive  of,  but 
may  never  obtain  ? Generation  after  generation  has  passed  away ; 
their  minds,  like  our  own,  having  formed  plans  and  purposes,  which 
they  were  never  destined  to  execute,  and  which,  if  they  had  been 
accomplished,  would  only  have  increased,  instead  of  satiating,  the 
thirst  for  happiness  and  immortality;  their  hearts,  like  our  own, 
have  beat  high  with  hopes  and  expectations  which  never  could  be 
fulfilled.  What  is  the  interpretation  of  all  these  phenomena  ? Does 
philosophy  tell  us  anything  or  nothing  of  human  destiny  here  and 
hereafter  ? These  inquiries  are  not  satisfied  by  a reference  simply 
to  the  immateriality,  or  to  the  inferred  immortality  of  the  soul ; we 
need  to  rise  to  a higher  view  of  human  life ; to  interpret  it  by  an 
appeal  to  the  whole  stream  of  history ; to  probe  the  depths  of  our 
being  by  a solemn  reflection  upon  all  the  facts  it  presents ; and  to 
draw  the  conclusions  to  which  those  facts  seem  necessarily  to 
lead  us. 

To  do  this,  of  course,  man’s  religious  nature  must  be  appealed 
to  ; and  this  appeal  leads  us  into  a region  of  internal  facts,  as  ver- 
itable as  any  of  the  others  which  reflection  unfolds  to  us — ^facts 
which  we  cannot  leave  out  of  our  estimate  of  the  human  mind,, 
without  robbing  it  of  one  of  its  most  remarkable  and  most  distinc'-- 
tive  features.  All  great  and  deep-searching  systems  of  philosophy 
have  struggled  at  the  solution  of  these  questions ; they  have  all 
attempted  to  explain  the  ground  of  human  duty,  human  suffering, 

26 


402 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


and  human  destiny  ; and  if  the  problem  has  never  been  fully  solved, 
yet  it  cannot  be  denied  that  much  light  has  been  thrown  upon  it 
by  the  investigations  to  which  it  has  been  subjected.  In  one  word, 
every  great  system  of  philosophy  has  included,  as  an  essential  part 
of  its  whole  structure,  the  'philosophy  of  religion.  Admit,  as  we 
freely  do,  that  revelation  here  comes  to  our  aid,  and  sheds  a flood 
of  light  upon  the  whole  subject,  still  that  does  not  repress  or  render 
useless  the  researches  of  our  own  understanding  on  the  subject. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  revelation  puts  everything  before  us  in  its 
popular  and  practical  aspect,  and  leaves  very  much  on  all  specula- 
tive questions  to  be  elucidated  by  our  own  thinking ; and  then, 
even  supposing  we  accept  a truth  on  the  ground  of  its  being  re- 
vealed, yet  still  it  is  an  object  of  no  little  interest  to  show,  that  the 
same  truth  is  not  only  consistent  with,  but  may  be  actually  deduced 
^from,  the  axioms  of  a sound  philosophy.  We  feel  convinced, 
therefore,  that  the  Scottish  philosophy  will  never  take  a firm  and 
lasting  hold  upon  mankind,  until  it  points  us  to  the  solution  of  some 
at  least  of  the  great  questions,  which  ever  and  anon  rise  up  before 
our  view,  with  which  we  are  from  time  to  time  tormented  and 
perplexed,  but  which,  when  once  conceived,  we  can  never  again 
bid  depart  from  our  thoughts. 

2.  But  we  must  refer  next  to  the  second  of  the  primitive  notions, 
which  lie  at  the  foundations  of  iiLman  knowledge,  that  of  nature, 
and  consider  in  what  manner  our  northern  metaphysicians  have 
dealt  with  this  idea.  To  determine  the  objective  reality,  which  we 
attach  to  this  notion,  was  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  Reid’s  philos- 
ophy ; but  this  aim  having  been  accomplished,  the  subject  has 
rested,  with  little  exception,  in  the  same  position  ever  since.  The 
investigation  of  the  external  laws  of  the  material  world,  of  course, 
comes  under  the  department  of  physical  science.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  great  metaphysical  question,  which  it  behooves  philosophy 
to  grapple  with,  is  this, — What  is  it,  in  the  state  of  mind  called  per- 
ception, that  comes  from  the  objective  reality  ; and  what  is  it  that 
comes  from  the  laws  of  our  own  intellectual  nature  ? It  is  pretty 
generally  admitted,  that  this  state  of  consciousness  arises  from  the 
union  of  the  subjective  with  the  objective,  that  it  is  a felt  relation 
between  nature  and  self  What,  then,  in  every  case  is  due  to  the 
subjective,  and  what  to  the  objective  element,  and  what  conclusion 
does  this  lead  us  to  draw  with  regard  to  the  nature  of  matter  in 
general  ? 

Now  every  ontological  question  of  this  nature  is  virtually  pro- 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


403 


scribed  by  the  Scottish  school.  Instead  of  doing  this,  our  aim 
should  be,  beginning  with  the  experimental  or  psychological 
method,  to  find  a legitimate  passage  from  psychology  to  ontology, 
and  to  determine,  as  far  as  we  are  able,  the  mode  and  the  nature 
of  material  existence.  After  all  the  disputes  about  infinite  divisi- 
bility on  the  one  hand,  and  ultimate  atoms  on  the  other,  it  rciay 
perhaps  at  length  be  found,  that  a system  of  monadology  is  the 
most  intelligible  theory ; that  the  most  correct  notion  of  matter  is 
that  of  a combination  of  forces,  which  produce  certain  impressions 
upon  our  minds,  and  to  which  those  minds  necessarily  attribute 
certain  material  properties.  Thus  it  may  turn  out  that  the  mode, 
in  which  we  are  now  accustomed  to  view  material  masses  in  phys- 
ical science,  namely,  as  powers  acting  in  certain  directions,  is  viet- 
aphysically  as  well  as  mechanically  true. 

Again : when  we  view  the  variety  of  the  material  universe — 
when  we  perceive  the  order,  harmony,  and  beauty  which  every- 
where subsist,  when  we  rise  to  contemplate  its  immensity,  until  the 
mind  is  lost  in  the  unending  series  of  system  upon  system,  which 
reveal  themselves  in  the  boundless  fields  of  space — the  great  prob- 
lem unfolds  itself  before  us — What  purpose  is  all  this  gigantic 
machinery  now  accomplishing,  and  what  is  its  final  destiny?  We 
admit  that  this  problem  has  never  yet  received  its  complete  answer 
from  the  efforts  of  philosophy ; but  yet  we  say,  that  the  purpose 
and  destiny  of  nature,  viewed  in  her  mysterious  existence,  in  her 
endless  forms  of  beauty,  in  her  profusion  of  glory,  in  her  solemn 
movements,  and  in  her  inconceivable  immensity,  present  a subject 
of  philosophic  speculation  too  real,  too  awful,  and  too  sublime  to 
be  hurried  off  the  stage  of  inquiry,  as  lying  beyond  the  reach  of 
our  present  faculties  to  fathom.  The  attempt  to  fathom  this  ques- 
tion has  often  indeed  merged  into  a pantheistic  result.  But  the 
fact  of  false  theories  being  maintained,  does  not  render  the  search 
for  truth  any  the  less  important  or  legitimate.  Quite  certain  it  is, 
that  the  more  nature  is  investigated  with  a right  mind  and  a devo- 
tional heart,  the  more  closely  it  brings  us  into  contact  with  the 
Divine ; nay,  that  it  is  the  want  of  recognizing  the  spiritual  and 
ideal  in  nature,  which  has  so  often  betrayed  the  naturalist  into  a 
cold  and  heartless  atheism.  Generally,  then,  we  cannot  but  feel 
that  the  philosophy  of  Scotland  has  been  deficient  in  explaining  the 
proper  existence  of  matter,  and  casting  a light  upon  the  great  idea 
of  nature  herself. 

3.  The  last  idea  which  the  Scottish  philosophy,  in  common  with 


404 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


every  true  philosophy,  contains,  is  that  of  the  infinite,  absolute, 
unconditioned  existence,  i.  e.,  of  God.  This  idea  gives  rise  to 
natural  theology,  which  is  treated  of  with  considerable  success 
by  some  of  the  northern  metaphysicians,  so  far  at  least  as  their 
researches  reach.  The  points  here,  which  need  taking  up  more 
fully,  ai-e,  first,  the  origin  of  the  idea  of  an  absolute  being  in  the 
human  mind  ; and,  secondly,  the  relation  of  the  Divine  power  and 
energy  to  man  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  nature  on  the  other.  With 
regard  to  the  former  of  these  points,  the  argument  from  design  has 
been  drawn  out  most  fully  an.d  beautifully  by  the  Scottish  writers, 
from  Reid  down  to  Chalmers  ; but  all  have  gone  upon  the  suppo- 
sition that  the  conception  of  the  absolute  is  already  in  the  mind, 
and  have  simply  attempted  to  prove  its  objective  reality.  Nature 
can  show  an  infinity  of  power,  in  perpetual  operation,  and  its  har- 
mony may  point  us  to  a unity  from  which  it  emanates ; but  nature 
can  never  give  us  the  idea  of  an  infinite  personality.  Here  we 
have  to  fall  back  simply  upon  the  soul — the  absolute  starting-point 
of  all  theology.*  The  second  point  would  be  a comment  upon  the 
scriptural  doctrine — “ In  God  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  be- 
ing.” This  is  a truth,  which  has  more  meaning  in  it  than  the  cur- 
sory reading  of  it  gives  us  ; it  evidently  has  a reference  to  the 
mysterious  dependence  of  the  human  spirit  upon  the  Divine,  show- 
ing that  we  are  all  emanations  from  the  infinite  essence,  and 
though  gifted  with  a distinct  personality,  yet  that  we  are  but  waves 
in  the  great  ocean  of  existence,  ever  rolling  onwards  to  our  eter- 
nal home  in  the  bosom  of  God.  In  the  same  manner  as  God  holds 
an  intimate  relationship  with  all  mental,  so  also  does  he  with  all 
material  dependent  existence — a relationship  which  it  is  the  en- 
deavor of  every  comprehensive  system  of  philosophy  to  explain. 
It  is  true,  the  Scottish  philosophy  has  somewhat  touched  upon  this 
point  in  discussing  the  question  of  efficient  and  secondary  causes, 
but  yet  so  imperfectly,  that  it  is  impossible  to  derive  either  light  or 
satisfaction  from  its  conclusions.  There  is  perhaps  no  point  which 
more  requires  to  be  elucidated,  and  none  which  comes  more  within 
the  compass  of  metaphysics,  as  acknowledged  in  Scotland,  than 
the  theory  of  what  we  should  term  the  secondary  and  delegated 
powers  of  nature.  We  are  aware  that  revelation  may  cast  light 
upon  this,  and  many  other  of  the  questions  we  have  mentioned, 
and  that  in  some  instances  it  affords  a very  distinct  answer  to 
them  ; but  the  object  of  philosophy,  as  applied  to  these  subjects,  is 

• See  Appendix,  Note  A. 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


405 


to  place  them  upon  another  footing,  to  deduce  them  in  a connected 
chain  of  reasoning  from  generally  admitted  facts  and  principles,  to 
make  them  the  objects,  not  of  faith  but  of  science,  and  thus  to 
show  the  unity,  as  far  as  the  parallel  can  be  traced,  between  the 
conclusions  of  reason  and  the  dictates  of  revelation.  Thus,  in 
fine,  the  Scottish  school  of  metaphysics,  though  containing  all  the 
fundamental  ideas  of  human  knowledge,  and  consequently  the 
germs  of  a most  complete  system,  yet  appears  wanting  in  compre^ 
hensiveness  as  it  regards  each  separate  department.  It  answers,  in 
a word,  to  the  description  given  of  it  by  the  celebrated  reviewer 
before  referred  to  ; that,  namely,  of  a preparation  for  philosophy, 
rather  than  a philosophy  itself 

Before  we  close  our  remarks,  however,  upon  Scotland,  we  must 
not  forget  to  mention  one  publication  to  which  Europe  itself  is  in- 
debted as  a literary  organ,  and  which,  though  partaking  predomi- 
nantly of  the  mind  of  the  country  in  which  it  originated,  yet  has 
ever  looked  upon  philosophical  questions  with  an  enlarged  and  lib- 
eral spirit.  The  “Edinburgh  Review,”  to  which  it  will  be  at  once 
seen  that  we  refer,  has  been  the  channel,  through  which  some  of 
the  master  minds  of  Scotland  as  well  as  England  have  from  time 
to  time  given  their  thoughts  to  the  world.  Among  the  philosoph- 
ical writers  who  have  enriched  its  pages,  we  shall  mention  two, 
one  living,  and  one  some  years  since  gone  to  his  rest,  who  have 
contributed  not  a little  to  keep  alive  in  our  country  the  declining 
spirit  of  metaphysical  research. 

Sir  J ames  Mackintosh,  the  latter  of  those  to  whom  we  refer,  pos- 
sessed all  the  qualifications  for  a philosopher  of  the  highest  order. 
Educated  originally  as  one  of  the  Scottish  school,  he  soon  learned, 
on  leaving  his  native  country,  to  overstep  the  limits  to  which  he 
was  there  confined  ; and  amidst  the  labors  of  an  arduous  profes- 
sional life,  devoted  what  time  he  could  spare  from  his  duties  to  a 
most  widely-extended  course  of  philosophical  reading  and  study. 
It  is  chiefly  as  a moralist  that  Sir  James  Mackintosh  stood  pre- 
eminent ; and  the  ardor,  the  depth,  and  the  learning  with  which 
he  combated  the  selfish  systems,  and  pleaded  for  the  authority  and 
sanctity  of  the  moral  faculty  in  man,  contributed  perhaps  more 
than  any  single  cause  not  of  a religious  nature,  to  oppose  the  bold 
advances  of  utilitarianism,  and  infuse  a healthier  tone  into  the 
moral  principles  of  the  country.  Without  signifying  our  adhe- 
rence to  his  peculiar  theory  respecting  conscience,  we  still  regard 
his  thoughts  and  speculations  as  taking  eminently  the  right  direc- 


408 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


tion  ; and  had  ht  obtained  leisure  to  mature  his  views,  and  give 
them  to  the  world  in  his  own  forcible  and  glowing  style,  it  is  the 
opinion  of  some  best  able  to  judge  upon  the  subject,  (e.  g.  Robert 
Hall  and  Dr.  Chalmers,)  that  he  would  have  placed  the  whole 
theory  of  morals  upon  a higher  and  more  commanding  position, 
than  it  had  ever  occupied  before  in  this  country.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  his  admirable  dissertation  on  ethical  philosophy  in  the 
“ Encyclopeedia  Britannica,”  his  chief  metaphysical  writings  are 
to  be  found  in  the  pages  of  the  “ Edinburgh  Review,”  where  the 
practised  eye  can  easily  detect  his  articles  by  the  combination  of 
profuse  learning,  and  profound  thought,  with  a brilliancy  of  style, 
and  a gentleness  of  criticism,  alike  significant  of  his  intellectual 
power  and  his  kindly  affections.  As  a metaphysician.  Mackintosh 
tended  decidedly  to  the  more  spiritual  school  of  philosophy,  and 
had  he  read  as  deeply  into  the  German  authors  as  he  himself  pro- 
jected, would  undoubtedly  have  given  a great  spur  to  the  renewed 
study  of  the  higher  metaphysics.  As  it  is,  however,  he  can  never 
fill  that  space  in  the  philosophical  history  of  our  country,  for  which 
his  genius  eminently  fitted  him. 

Respecting  the  other  writer,  to  whom  we  have  alluded,  namely. 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  we  shall  say  less  than  we  should  feel  in- 
clined to  say  were  he  not  a living  author,  from  whom  the  public 
has  still  some  further  expectations,  and  were  it  not  improper  to 
remark  upon  theories  which  as  yet  have  not  been  published  be- 
yond the  privacy  of  the  lecture-room.  Enough,  however,  has 
already  appeared  from  his  pen,  to  warrant  the  assertion,  that  no 
history  of  Modern  Philosophy  can  be  complete  without  giving  due 
place  to  the  researches  there  instituted.  We  might  refer  to  the 
elaborate  articles,  which  have  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
on  “ The  Philosophy  of  Perception,”  on  “ Cousin’s  Eclecticism,” 
and  on  “ Modern  Logic,”  each  of  which  contains  germs  of  phil- 
osophical principles  which  admit  of  indefinite  expansion ; but  we 
are  happy  to  be  able  to  refer  to  a more  complete,  though  still  un- 
finished exposition  of  his  philosophy,  in  the  Dissertations  appended 
to  his  recent  edition  of  Reid’s  collected  writings.*  Should  any 
one  suppose  that  the  editor  has  taken  his  stand  upon  those  writ- 
ings, as  containing  in  all  respects  a true  philosophy,  he  will  be 

* In  our  former  edition  we  ventured  to  ask  the  Edinburgh  philosopher,  “ Why  he 
had  neglected  the  office  of  raising  Scotland  to  that  high  rank  of  reputation  which 
it  formerly  enjoyed  among  the  philosophical  countries  of  Europe.”  We  could  not 
have  had  the  commencevienf,  of  a more  satisfactory  reply,  than  that  afforded  by  the 
above-mentioned  Dissertations ; and  only  hope  that  before  the  year  is  past  it  may  be 
completed.  , ».  / 


THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL. 


407 


much  mistaken,  for  in  no  work  of  the  age  are  many  of  Reid’s 
principles  more  completely  overthrown.  The  works  of  the  great 
founder  of  the  school  of  “ common  sense,”  are  simply  regarded  as 
coming,  upon  the  whole,  nearer  to  the  truth  than  any  other ; as 
forming,  in  fact,  a kind  of  centre  between  contending  systems  on 
which  a high  and  refined  eclecticism  can  plant  itself,  in  order  to 
grasp  those  catholic  principles  of  human  thinking,  to  which  all 
philosophy  has  virtually  done  homage.  Let  us  see  the  results. 

Reid’s  system  is  usually  termed  the  philosophy  of  “common 
sense,”  that  is  to  say,  one  which  accepts  the  primary  beliefs  ordi- 
narily received  by  all  mankind  as  the  ultimate  criterion  of  truth.  | 
The  first  thing,  then,  to  which  the  editor  addresses  himself  is,  to  j 
expound  the  meaning  of  the  doctrine,  and  illustrate  the  purport  of  | 
the  argument  of  common  sense.*  To  do  this,  he  shows  that  in  all 
reasoning  we  must  sink  back  upon  certain  fundamental  facts  of  | 
consciousness;  the  only  thing  we  have  to  guard  against  is,  I.  ' 
“That  we  admit  nothing  unwarrantably — not  even  an  original 
datum  of  consciousness  itself ; 2.  That  we  embrace  all  which  are  | 
original  data  of  consciousness,  with  their  legitimate  consequences  ; i 
and  3.  That  we  exhibit  each  in  its  integrity,  neither  distorted  nor 
mutilated.  It  is  the  want  of  observing  these  precautions  which  has  / 
led  to  the  multiplication  of  philosophical  systems,  in  every  con- 
ceivable aberration  from  the  unity  of  truth ; so  that  philosophy  has 
simply  to  return  to  natural  consciousness,  in  order  to  return  both 
to  unity  and  truth.” 

The  next  point  taken  up,  is  to  show  the  “ legitimacy  and  legiti- 
mate application  of  the  argument  of  common  sense.”f  This  pro» 
ceeds  on  two  suppositions — 1.  That  the  proposition  to  be  proved 
by  it  is  identical  with,  or  necessarily  evolved  out  of  a primary 
datum  of  consciousness ; and  2.  “ That  the  primary  data  of  con- 
sciousness are  one  and  all  of  them  admitted  to  be  true.”  These 
being  granted,  nothing  hinders  the  argument  of  common  sense 
from  being  valid  for  all  purposes  of  philosophy. 

The  third  point  to  be  shown,  is,  that  the  above  suppositions 
must  be  admitted ; that  they  are  strictly  philosophical  in  their 
character ; and  that  no  exception,  therefore,  can  be  made  against 
a system  of  philosophy  which  is  professedly  built  upon  them.J 

The  fourth  section  proposes  to  investigate  the  essential  charac- 
ters by  which  the  principles  of  common  sense  are  discriminated. 

* Note  A.  sec.  1.  f Note  A.  sec.  3. 

J Note  A.  sec.  3. 


408 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


These  are  found  to  be — 1.  Their  incomprehensibility  as  to  why 
they  are;  2.  Their  simplicity;  3.  Their  necessity  and  absolute 
universality ; 4.  Their  comparative  evidence  and  certainty.  These 
characters  being  determined,  the  last  two  sections  enter  into  a 
long  and  learned  historical  investigation  of  the  nomenclature  of 
fundamental  philosophy,  and  the  general  recognition  of  the  prin- 
ples  of  common  sense  by  philosophers  of  every  age  and  country. 

In  the  second  note  (note  B),  the  author  proceeds  to  exemplify 
the  distinction  between  presentative  and  representative  knowl- 
edge, as  affording  a basis  for  the  true  theory  of  perception.  The 
principal  points  of  this  distinction  may  be  briefly  stated.  The  one 
kind  of  knowledge  is  simple,  the  other  complex ; in  the  one,  there 
is  only  a single  object  involved,  in  the  other,  there  are  two — the 
reality  and  the  idea ; the  one  is  absolute,  the  other  relative ; the 
judgment  involved  in  the  one  is  assertatory,  that  in  the  other  prob- 
lematic ; the  one  is  self-sufficient,  the  other  is  not  self-sufficient ; 
the  one  is  complete  or  adequate,  the  other  incomplete  or  inade- 
quate. These  may  serve  to  explain  the  principal  differences  be- 
tween a knowledge,  which  we  obtain  by  a direct  intuition,  and 
that  which  is  conveyed  by  a mediating  idea,  or  conception.  In 
the  second  section,  the  errors  of  Reid  and  other  philosophers  are 
pointed  out,  and  the  way  paved  for  a clear  and  well-defined  doc- 
trine on  the  subject. 

In  note  C,  the  editor  proceeds  first  to  expound  systematically 
the  different  schemes  of  external  perception,  which  are  to  be  found 
in  the  different  systems  of  philosophy.  Philosophers,  in  I’espect  to 
fhe  question  of  perception,  have  been  either,  1.  Presentationists ; 
or,  2.  Representationists.  1.  Presentationists  may  proceed  upon 
one  of  two  plans.  Either  they  may  abolish  the  representing  object, 
or  they  may  abolish  the  real  object.  In  the  former  case  we  have 
natural  realism,  as  in  Reid  ; in  the  latter,  we  have  pure  subjective 
idealism,  as  in  Fichte.  2.  Representationists  are  also  of  two  kinds  ; 
either  they  make  the  representing  image  or  idea  a mode  or  modi- 
fication of  the  mind  itself,  or  they  regard  it  as  a separate  existence. 
In  the  former  case,  we  have  a theory  of  ideas  like  Locke  and 
Brown ; in  the  latter,  we  have  the  ideal  system  of  Aristotle  or 
Democritus.  For  the  minor  shades  of  these  doctrines,  and  Reid’s 
precise  position,  we  must  refer  our  readers  to  the  work  itself,  which 
will  amply  repay  them  for  the  closest  investigation.* 

The  next  note  (D)  enters  at  length  into  the  difficult  question  of 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


409 


the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of  bodies,  and  gives  a vast 
amount  of  information,  critical  and  historical,  upon  the  physiologi- 
cal question  of  sensation  and  perception.  This  being  accomplished, 
the  whole  subject  of  perception  is  summed  up  by  a contrast  between 
the  author’s  own  views  and  those  of  the  earliest  Scottish  school, 
together  with  certain  historical  notices  on  the  “ rapports  du  phy- 
sique et  du  moral,”  in  man.  Some  contributions  towards  a history 
and  a theory  of  the  doctrine  of  association,  complete  abruptly  the 
dissertations  so  far  as  they  at  present  extend  ; and  must  leave,  we 
imagine,  upon  every  mind  that  feels  at  all  interested  in  such  topics, 
the  devout  hope,  that  a w'ork  so  auspiciously  commenced,  may  ere 
long  satisfy  the  anticipation  it  cannot  but  excite  with  I'eference  to 
its  early  completion. 

On  the  w^hole,  we  cannot  but  regard  these  dissertations  as  the 
most  valuable  contribution  to  the  progress  of  a true  philosophy,  in 
our  country,  within  the  present  century.  There  is  no  evasion  of 
difficulties,  no  blenching  of  the  intellectual  eye  before  the  pure 
light  of  the  deepest  truth  ; no  dimness  of  vision  accruing  from  the 
long  and  intense  gaze  within,  which  such  subjects  demand.  On 
the  contrary,  we  have  the  highest  questions,  which  even  the  Ger- 
man mind  can  treat  of,  brought  dowm  into  the  light  of  “ common 
sense,”  and  see  a far  nearer  approximation  tow^ards  adjusting 
the  respective  claims  of  all  the  primary  systems  of  Europe,  than 
has  before  been  witnessed  in  the  philosophical  literature  of  our 
country. 

Sect.  II. — The  German  School  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

We  come  now  to  that  branch  of  the  idealistic  school,  which  if 
it  has  exceeded  all  others  in  obscurity,  has  also  far  excelled  them 
in  depth  and  originality.  In  entering  upon  the  field  of  modern 
German  metaphysics,  we  must  bespeak  beforehand  the  good-will  of 
the  reader,  that  he  may  not  be  easily  offended  wdth  the  strange- 
ness of  the  phraseology,  or  the  dryness  of  the  abstractions  ; trust- 
ing that  the  pleasure  of  any  new  idea  that  is  gained  will  compen- 
sate for  the  uninviting  manner  in  which  it  may  be  communicated. 
On  our  own  part,  we  shall  divest  the  subject  of  its  bristling  formu- 
las as  far  as  w'e  are  able,  and  use  the  ordinary  language  of  philoso- 
phy, whenever  it  can  be  done  with  advantage,  without  making 
the  obscurity  of  the  original  still  more  obscure. 

It  should  ever  be  kept  in  mind,  that  the  great  aim  of  the  German 


410 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


philosophy  is,  in  many  respects,  very  different  from  the  main  pur- 
pose of  intellectual  science  in  our  own  country.  The  analysis  of 
the  powers  and  faculties  of  the  human  mind,  which  with  us  is  the 
chief  point,  is  among  the  Germans  comprehended  in  one  very  sub- 
ordinate division,  generally  termed  psychology  ; while  their  chief 
endeavors  are  directed  to  the  solution  of  the  thi'ee  great  problems, 
which  relate  to  the  existence  and  the  nature  of  God,  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  of  human  freedom.  The  phenomena,  both  of  the  inter- 
nal and  external  world,  are  ever  shifting  ; what  exists  this  moment 
is  gone  the  next ; what  is  ti’ue  for  to-day,  is  not  true  for  to-morrow. 
Now,  our  own  philosophy,  whether  physical  or  mental,  attempts 
not,  for  the  most  part,  to  go  beyond  the  limits  of  this  scene  of 
phenomena,  but,  taking  its  position  in  the  centre  of  it,  seeks  to 
observe  the  generic  characters,  which  the  phenomena  themselves 
present,  and  arrange  them  in  the  most  convenient  order.  Not  so 
the  philosophy  of  Germany.  Convinced  that  mere  phenomena 
cannot  be  self-existent  realities,  it  begins  by  inquiring  after  the 
principle  from  which  they  spring ; it  seeks  for  a uniform  and  un- 
changeable basis,  which  underlies  all  the  fleeting  appearances  of 
things  ; it  demands  truth  which  must  be  eternally  truth,  and  from 
which,  as  the  prime  unconditioned  existence,  everything  else  has 
proceeded.  Not  content  with  knowing  what  is,  it  aims  at  discov- 
ering what  must  he ; and  then  seeks  to  trace  the  whole  creative 
process  by  which  the  universe  in  all  its  multiplicity  has  flowed  by 
eternal  laws  from  the  self-existent  one.  The  very  first  requisite, 
therefore,  in  understanding  the  rationale  of  the  German  philoso- 
phy, is  to  fix  the  eye  of  the  mind  upon  the  notion  of  “ the  absolute^ 
and  thus  to  pass  mentally  beyond  the  bounds  of  changing,  finite, 
conditioned  existence,  into  the  region  of  the  unchangeable,  the  in- 
finite, the  unconditioned. 

That  we  have  some  idea  (positive  or  negative)  of  an  independent 
and  absolute  existence,  from  which  all  finite  and  dependent  being 
has  emanated ; that  we  have  some  notion  of  a first  cause,  from 
which  all  secondary  causes  are  derived  ; that  our  reason  struggles 
to  look  beneath  the  veil  of  phenomena,  that  is  spread  before  our 
senses,  to  the  abiding  reality  in  its  eternal  repose,  which  sustains 
them,  is  undeniable.  Revelation  cannot  unfold  to  us  the  existence 
of  this  great  first  cause,  since  its  whole  authority  rests  upon  that 
very  fact,  and  it  does  not  unfold  to  us  the  nature  and  constitution 
of  the  universe.  If  we  would  understand  these  things,  we  must 
philosophize ; we  must  look  out  upon  the  changing  world,  and  our 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


411 


reason  must  there  see  the  unchangeable  basis  which  upholds  it;  we 
must  look  in  upon  our  finite  and  dependent  minds,  and  view  there 
the  indestructible  evidence  for  an  infinite  and  independent  Being, 
by  which  they  too  are  sustained. 

The  philosophy  of  the  absolute — that  which  seeks  to  penetrate 
into  the  principles  of  things — although  it  may  seem  strange  to  our 
modes  and  habits  of  thought,  yet  has  played  a great  part  in  the 
scientific  history  of  the  world.  It  formed  the  basis  of  the  ancient 
speculations  of  the  Asiatic  world.  It  characterized  some  of  the 
most  remarkable  phases  of  the  early  Greek  philosophy,  particularly 
that  of  the  Eleatic  school.  Plato,  with  all  the  lofty  grandeur  of  his 
sublime  spirit,  sought  for  the  absolute,  in  the  archetypes  existing  in 
the  Divine  mind.  The  Alexandrian  philosophers  proposed  to  them- 
selves the  same  high  argument ; mingling  their  theories  with  the 
mysticism  of  the  East,  and  calling,  even,  to  their  aid,  the  lights  of 
the  Christian  revelation.  In  more  recent  times  Spinoza  gave  cur- 
rency to  similar  investigations,  which  were  soon  moulded  into  a 
system  of  stern  and  unflinching  pantheism ; and  in  him  we  see  the 
model,  upon  which  the  modern  idealists  of  Germany  have  renewed 
their  search  into  the  absolute  ground  of  all  phenomena.  It  is,  in 
fact,  in  the  various  methods  by  which  it  is  supposed  that  we  are 
conducted  to  the  absolute,  whether  by  faith,  intuition,  or  reason, 
that  the  different  phases  of  the  German  metaphysics  have  origi- 
nated ; and,  consequently,  it  is  by  keeping  our  eye  upon  this  point, 
that  we  shall  possess  the  most  ready  key  to  their  interpretation. 

Befoi'e  we  pi'oceed,  however,  to  the  exposition  of  the  modern 
idealism,  we  must  concentrate  in  a few  lines  the  chief  results  of  the 
Kantian  philosophy,  in  order  that  we  may  thus  keep  up  the  histor- 
ical connection,  and  show  the  process  by  which  the  systems  that 
flourish  in  the  present  century,  have  been  developed. 

According  to  Kant,  there  are  three  great  faculties  which  com- 
pose our  intellectual  nature ; sense,  understanding,  and  reason. 
All  the  material  of  our  knowledge  comes  to  us  through  the  medium 
of  the  first,  but  it  comes  in  a chaotic  mass,  without  form,  and  void. 
The  faculty  which  gives  shape  and  distinctness  to  this  material, 
and  which  thus  forms  it  into  notions,  is  the  understanding.  Then, 
lastly,  the  reason  is  ever  employed  in  generalizing  our  notions,  in 
making  them  as  abstract  as  possible,  and  thus  in  giving  to  them  a 
systematic  unity.  From  this  it  follows,  that  the  only  true  knowl- 
edge having  objective  reality  answering  to  it,  is  that  which  lies 
within  the  bounds  of  our  sense-perceptions  ; that  all  else  is  merely 


412 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


formal,  and,  if  supposed,  to  be  otherwise,  must  prove  delusive  and 
contradictory.  It  follows,  moreover,  that,  as  the  bare  matter  of  our 
notions  comes  from  without,  and  everything  which  shapes  them 
into  distinct  conceptions  is  communicated  by  the  forms  of  our  own 
understanding  within,  therefore  all  our  knowledge  of  things  beyond 
the  mere  fact  that  they  are,  is  purely  subjective,  and,  were  our 
understandings  differently  constituted,  might  be  entirely  altered. 
The  real  objects  we  know  to  be  actually  present,  otherwise  all  our 
knowledge  would  be  formal,  as  in  logic ; but  they  can  only  be  to  us 
what  we  feel  them.  Nothing  can  ever  come  to  our  knowledge  at 
all,  except  through  the  medium  of  the  laws  of  our  own  subjective 
faculties ; so  that,  what  we  see  in  matter  is  not  its  real  qualities, 
but  a reflection  of  the  forms  of  our  own  understanding.  It  is  to 
be  remembered,  also,  that  when  we  speak  of  the  material  of  our 
knowledge  coming  through  the  senses,  all  w'e  are  to  understand  by 
this  material  is  bare  phenomenon  ; for  Kant  proceeded  to  show  that 
the  purely  rational  ideas  of  matter,  of  the  soul,  and  of  God,  are  but 
personifications  of  our  own  modes  of  thinking,  and  cannot  be 
shown  scientifically  to  have  any  objective  reality  answering  to 
them ; although  it  is  quite  conceivable  that  this  may  be  the  case, 
and  quite  impossible  to  prove  aught  to  the  contrary.* 

Now,  in  these  conclusions  there  is  a twofold  element  involved ; 
there  is,  on  the  one  hand,  something  without,  which  is  independent 
of  our  subjective  activity,  and  which  exerts  a direct  influence  upon 
our  minds  (for  Kant  assumed  as  indisputable  the  veracity  of  our 
sense-perceptions)  ; and  on  the  other  hand  there  is  the  strongest 
possible  tendency  to  pure  subjective  idealism ; for  the  element 
given  in  sensation  was  not  only  regarded  as  mere  phenomenon,  but 
also  as  having  in  it  no  distinctness,  no  form,  no  property,  nothing, 
in  fact,  by  which  it  could  be  marked,  known,  or  defined,  until  it 
was  shaped  into  notions  by  means  of  the  understanding,  and  in 
accordance  with  its  subjective  laws.  These  two  points,  then,  in 
the  Kantian  philosophy,  have  given  rise  to  a double  stream  of  specu- 
lation in  the  more  modern  metaphysical  schools  of  Germany.  Ja- 
cobi, on  the  one  side,  laid  hold  of  the  realistic  element,  and  strove 
to  assign  it  a still  higher  place  amongst  the  first  principles  of  human 
knowledge  than  was  allowed  by  Kant  himself ; and  Herbart  car- 
ried out  the  tendency  thus  commenced  by  making  the  real  objec- 
tive fact  given  in  perception  (das  faktisch  Gegebene)  the  very 

* It  will  be  remembered  that  Kant  counteracted  the  scepticism  to  which  his  theoretic 
philosophy  led,  respecting  morals  and  natural  theology,  by  the  conclusions  of  his  prac- 
tical philosophy. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


413 


foundation  stone  of  his  system.  On  the  other  side  Fichte,  develop- 
ing Kant’s  subjective  and  idealistic  tendency,  easily  snapped  asun- 
der the  slender  thread  by  which  the  objective  world  retained  its 
hold  upon  our  theoretical  belief,  and  made  all  existence  absolutely 
synonymous  with  thought.  This  branch  has  been  since  followed 
up  by  the  still  more  extraordinary  speculations  of  Schelling  and 
Hegel.*  These  six  names,  then,  Kant,  Jacobi,  Her  hart,  Fichte, 
Schelling,  and  Hegel,  stand  at  the  head  of  well-nigh  all  that  is  orig- 
inal and  peculiar  in  German  philosophy ; the  other  writers  have 
merely  afforded  different  phases  of  the  same  ideas,  or  applied  them 
to  other  objects,  or  attempted  a reconciliation  between  the  different 
schools  above  indicated. 

As  the  idealistic  side  of  the  Kantian  philosophy  is,  without  ques- 
tion, the  pre-eminent,  it  will,  perhaps,  be  most  natural  to  commence 
with  the  great  branch  of  metaphysical  speculation,  which  we  have 
regarded  as  having  taken  its  rise  from  that  source.  Jacobi  would, 
doubtless,  have  claimed  the  prior  notice,  chronologically  consid- 
ered ; but  the  element  of  faith  which  he  introduced  to  supply  the 
deficiency  of  reason,  removes  him  more  properly  to  the  ranks  of 
the  mystics ; while  Herbart,  who  came  much  later,  is  scarcely  in- 
telligible, until  we  know  something  of  the  purer  idealistic  systems 
against  which  his  whole  philosophy  was  directed.  In  the  present 
section,  therefore,  we  shall  first  trace  the  regular  development  of 
the  ideal  philosophy  from  the  close  of  the  last  century  to  its  cul- 
minating point  as  seen  in  Hegelianism ; next,  we  shall  exhibit  the 
method  by  which  Herbart  sought  to  uphold  a realistic  philosophy 
in  direct  opposition  to  the  other  prevailing  systems ; and,  lastly, 
we  shall  allude  to  the  still  more  recent  manifestations,  which  specu- 
lative philosophy  has  exhibited  on  the  ever  fruitful  soil  of  Germany. 
The  consideration  of  Jacobi  we  must,  of  course,  reserve  for  the 
chapter  on  mysticism,  where  we  shall  find  the  faith-element,  he  in- 
troduced, combining  with  the  other  rationalistic  systems,  and  thus 
filling  up  a very  considerable  space  in  the  philosophical  history  of 
the  present  century. 

The  intelligent  reader  can  now  start,  we  trust,  with  a distinct 
idea  of  the  position  which  Kant  holds  in  the  road  to  subjective 
idealism.  The  prevailing  and  most  fruitful  notion  in  his  philoso- 
phy is  that  of  self ; for,  although  the  idea  of  a really  existing  not- 
self  in  nature  is  allowed,  yet  all  we  know  of  it  is,  as  it  were,  a mere 

* On  the  classification  of  the  Modem  German  Philosophy,  see  Chalybaus’  “ Ent- 
wickelung,”  p.  419,  et  seq. 


414 


MODEIIN  rHILOSOPIiy. 


surface  without  any  characters,  which  reflects  back  the  subjective 
forms  of  our  own  understanding  ; and,  although  the  conception  of 
God  is  also  acknowledged,  yet,  scientifically,  it  cannot  be  regarded 
as  anything  else  than  the  generalizing  power  of  our  own  reason 
personified.  Still,  with  all  this,  so  long  as  the  veracity  of  our 
sense-perceptions,  and,  consequently,  the  reality  of  outward  phe- 
nomena, was  accepted  as  a fact,  resting  without  need  of  further 
proof,  upon  the  direct  testimony  of  our  consciousness,  there  was, 
of  course,  an  empirical  as  well  as  a rational  element  in  his  philos- 
ophy. 

Reinhold,  however,  perceiving  that  there  were  two  original  ele- 
ments of  consciousness  admitted  by  Kant  as  the  basis  of  his  phi- 
losophy, namely,  the  forms  of  our  personal  activity  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  material  of  our  thoughts  as  given  in  perception  on  the 
other,  proposed  to  supply  an  analysis  of  consciousness  itself,  to 
attain  in  that  way  a single  instead  of  a double  basis  for  philosophy, 
and  thus  to  complete  the  system  which  Kant  had  so  skilfully  com- 
menced. This  proposition  of  Reinhold,  to  find  the  foundation- 
principle  of  all  philosophy  in  the  depths  of  our  own  consciousness, 
proved  in  fact  the  transition-point  between  the  doctrine  of  Kant 
and  that  of  Fichte,  whose  first  idea  was  not  by  any  means  to 
introduce  a new  theory,  but  only  to  show  how  the  JCantian  meta- 
physics, which  had  been  attacked  by  the  scepticism  of  Schulze 
and  Maimon,  might  obtain  a solid  and  uniform  foundation.  To 
this  celebrated  author,  then,  we  must  now  revert. 

John  Gottlob  Fichte  was  born  at  Rammenau,  in  the  year  1762  ; 
became  a student  at  Jena  in  1780  ; from  1784  to  1793  was  occu- 
pied in  private  tuition  ; and  then  received  an  appointment  as  pro- 
fessor of  philosophy  in  Zurich,  where  he  married  a relation  of  the 
poet  Klopstock.  After  remaining  there  only  one  or  two  sessions, 
he  was  invited  to  a chair  in  Jena,  where  he  enjoyed  a few  sessions 
of  happiness,  in  conjunction  with  some  of  the  first  minds  of  the 
age,  which  were  then  gathered  together  at  that  university.  In 
1795,  he  relinquished  his  post  at  Jena,  and  became  co-editor  with 
Niethammer  of  a Philosophical  Journal.  This  office  he  held  till 
the  year  1798,  when,  in  consequence  of  an  article  which  appeared 
to  savor  of  atheism,  he  was  frowned  upon  by  the  Weimar  govern- 
ment, and,  consequently,  took  up  his  residence  in  the  Prussian 
states.  His  arrival  in  Berlin  excited  some  attention,  and  his  lec- 
tures were  attended  by  men  of  the  first  rank  and  ability,  until  he 
was  induced  to  leave  that  place  also,  by  an  invitation  to  the  chair 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


415 


of  philosophy  at  Erlangen.  The  French  war  next  unsettled  his 
repose,  and  obliged  him  to  fly  successively  to  Konigsberg  and  Co- 
penhagen, in  order  to  avoid  all  connection  with  a nation  and  an 
enemy,  for  whom,  in  common  with  every  true  German,  he  had  the 
greatest  abhorrence.  In  1807,  he  returned  to  Berlin,  and  under- 
took, in  connection  with  many  others,  who  w^ere  appointed  for  that 
purpose,  the  organization  of  the  university;  in  the  precincts  of 
which  he  delivered,  during  the  first  winter,  his  celebrated  “ Ad- 
dresses to  the  German  Nation.”  He  remained  there  occupying 
some  of  the  most  important  and  responsible  stations  in  the  univer- 
sity, until  the  freedom  war  broke  out  in  1812,  when  he  became 
excited  in  behalf  of  his  country  to  the  highest  pitch  of  enthusiasm. 
He  was  not  destined,  however,  long  to  take  a share  in  the  struggles 
of  his  fatherland ; for  his  wife,  having  contracted  fever  from  her 
attention  to  the  sick  and  the  wounded,  he  only  witnessed  her  re- 
covery, himself  to  fall  a victim  to  the  same  disease.  His  death 
took  place  on  the  12th  of  January  1814,  in  the  fifty-second  year 
of  his  age.  Such  was  the  eventful  life  of  one  of  the  greatest 
thinkers  which  Germany  ever  produced. 

In  attempting  to  explain,  connectedly,  Fichte’s  philosophical 
principles,  we  must  remember,  that  in  early  life  he  had  entered 
fully  into  that  portion  of  the  Kantian  metaphysics,  which  teaches 
us  to  regard  all  the  properties  of  external  objects  as  determined  by 
the  laws  of  our  own  understanding.  According  to  this,  we  know 
everything  only  as,  by  virtue  of  our  faculties,  we  repi’esent  it  to 
our  minds.  The  forms  of  our  sensational  faculty,  the  categories 
of  the  understanding,  the  conceptions  of  pure  reason — these,  in  the 
Kantian  philosophy,  are  the  necessary  and  unalterable  ideas  under 
which  everything,  both  in  the  material  and  spiritual  world,  is 
viewed.  For  a considerable  period  Fichte  remained  faithful  to 
these  Kantian  doctrines  ; but  after  having  read  the  sceptical  writ- 
ings of  Schulze  and  Maimon,  he  became  at  length  convinced  that 
Kant  had  not  built  his  system  upon  a foundation  sufficiently  deep 
and  immovable.  The  objective  reality  of  our  sense-perceptions, 
was,  on  his  hypothesis,  taken  fo?'  granted,  without  any  reason 
being  assigned  for  it ; so  that  here  was  one  whole  branch  of  that 
system  resting  upon  an  empirical  basis,  and  therefore,  as  he  sup- 
posed, lying  out  of  the  region  of  strict  scientific  truth.  Fichte’s 
object  was  to  find  out  what  we  can  be  said  absolutely  to  know, 
and  having  discovered  this,  to  erect  a system,  not  of  philosophy, 
but  of  rigid  scientific  knowledge,  against  which  no  scepticism 


416 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


could  possibly  rear  an  objection.  Hence  it  was  that,  in  place  of 
“ Philosophy,”  he  assumed  the  term  Wissenschaftslehre,”  as  most 
designative  of  his  great  purpose. 

Scientific  truth,  according  to  Fichte,  is  that  which,  starting  from 
one  self-evident  basis,  infers  every  succeeding  position,  step  by 
step,  with  demonstrative  certainty.*  But  then  the  question  is, 
where  must  we  start  from,  in  order  to  be  perfectly  secure  in  every 
.succeeding  deduction  ? Not,  as  Kant  did,  from  the  supposition 
of  an  objective  world  standing  co-ordinate,  and  as  though  it  were 
equally  certain  with  the  facts  of  consciousness ; but  simply  and 
solely  from  those  facts  themselves.  All  we  are  immediately  con- 
scious of,  argues  Fichte,  are  the  states  and  processes  of  our  own 
thinking  self.  Our  sensations,  perceptions,  judgments,  impressions, 
ideas,  or  by  whatever  other  name  they  are  designated,  these  form 
the  material  of  all  the  knowledge  which  is  immediately  given  us — 
knowledge  which  no  sceptic,  not  Hume  himself,  ever  disputed ; 
nay,  which  cannot  be  disputed  without  our  performing,  in  order 
to  do  so,  one  of  the  very  processes,  and  admitting  some  of  the 
very  conceptions,  whose  existence  we  dispute. 

Knowledge,  therefore,  that  which  has  about  it  no  element  of 
mere  faith,  must  commence  absolutely  and  solely  with  my  subjec- 
tive self.  Whatever  I experience  immediately,,  i.  e.,  whatever 
forms  a part  of  my  own  direct  consciousness,  is  surely  and  cer- 
tainly known — known  in  a manner,  in  which  nothing  whatever 
can  possibly  be,  that  does  not  pass  thi’ough  my  real  mental  experi- 
ence. Suppose,  for  a moment,  that  there  were  an  objective  world : 
how  could  we  affirm  this  to  be  the  case,  when  everything,  that  lies 
without  us,  can  only  become  known  at  all  by  passing  through  our 
own  consciousness  ? If  it  be  said,  that  our  inner  consciousness  is 
so  formed  as  to  give  us  a perfect  representation  of  the  world  with- 
out, then  we  may  reply,  How'’  can  you  verify  this  fact  ? The 
means  of  verifying  it,  if  they  exist  at  all,  must  arise  from  the  ca- 
pacity of  comparing  the  reality  with  the  representation — a process 
which  implies  (what  has  just  been  given  up)  the  pow'er  of  perceiv- 
ing things  out  of  the  consciousness,  without  any  representation 
whatever.  We  can  only  attempt  to  verify  our  first  representation 
of  things,  by  making  another  representation  of  them ; try  as  we 
will,  therefore,  we  must,  after  all,  confess  that  we  have  an  imme- 
diate consciousness,  and  consequently  an  immediate  knowledge, 
only  of  our  subjective  states ; and  that,  if  anything  do  lie  beyond 
♦ See  his  “ Begriff  dcr  Wissenschaftslehre,”  Prefaee;  also  p.  10,  el  seq. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


417 


them,  we  can  only  come  to  the  knowledge  of  it  through  their  me- 
dium. Such  is  Fichte’s  fundamental  position. 

But  it  might  be  urged,  again,  that  our  intelligence  is  so  formed, 
that  we  are  obliged  to  accept  our  inner  consciousness  as  a veri- 
table picture  of  the  external  world.  To  this,  Fichte  rejoins,  that 
the  very  intelligence  which  obliges  us  to  do  so  is  purely  subjec- 
tive ; it  is  but  the  name  we  give  to  our  own  mental  constitution ; 
so  that,  after  all,  we  do  not  get  a step  beyond  the  circle  of  our 
own  selves.  And  if,  lastly,  the  opponent  should  give  up  all  idea 
of  representation,  and  urge  that  we  are  so  constituted,  that  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  suppose  the  real  existence  of  material 
things  around  us,  then  our  philosopher  reiterates  the  same  argu- 
ment as  before,  and  urges  in  reply,  that  we  do  so  only  as  necessi- 
tated by  our  own  inward  faculties,  or  the  laws  of  our  own  sub- 
jective reason ; so  that  we  find  ourselves  still  confined  within  the 
circle  of  our  subjectivity,  without  the  possibility  of  getting  a sure 
passage  into  the  external  world.  What  we  know  is  simply  the 
contents  of  our  own  consciousness  ; if  there  is  an  objective  world, 
it  can  only  exist  to  us  when  it  becomes  part  and  parcel  of  those 
contents. 

Now,  in  pursuing  this  line  of  argument,  Fichte  did  not  intend  to\ 
deny  practically  the  reality  of  external  things ; all  he  intended  was  \ 
to  give  an  exact  natural  history  of  the  human  mind  ; to  show  in  j 
what  its  knowledge  commences  ; of  what  it  consists  ; and  within 
what  limits  it  is  confined.  In  other  sciences  men  may  assume  the 
objective,  and  procee'd  accurately  enough  on  that  assumption ; but 
in  philosophy,  properly  so  called,  {i.  e.  in  Wissenschaft,)  where 
nothing  is  to  be  assumed,  and  every  point  known,  he  considered 
that  a rigid  consecutive  method  did  not  allow  us  to  go  a single 
step  beyond  what  is  to  us  absolutely  real,  namely,  the  facts  of  our 
own  mental  experience.  He  imagined  the  mind  to  be,  as  it  were, 
an  intelligent  eye,  placed  in  the  central  point  of  our  inward  con- 
sciousness, surveying  all  that  takes  place  there ; and  it  was  from 
that  point  of  view  (the  only  absolute  and  scientific  one)  that  he 
wished  to  give  an  account  of  our  moral  and  intellectual  history, 
detailing  the  rise,  the  progress,  and  all  the  events  of  our  real  in- 
ward life,  from  its  commencement  to  its  maturity.  Whether  the 
scenes  which  take  place  within  this  subjective  circle,  betoken  any 
objective  existence  or  not,  that  was  to  him  a matter  of  no  con- 
sequence ; well  he  knew  that,  if  this  were  the  case,  it  was  only 
just  in  proportion  as  the  objects  could  lay  aside,  as  it  were,  their 

27 


418 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


objectivity,  and  transport  themselves  within  the  subjective  sphere 
of  tlie  mind’s  vision,  that  they  could  be  observed  and  known  ; or 
what  is  tlie  same  thing,  that  to  us  they  could  exist.  The  real 
history  of  every  man,  ui’ged  Fichte,  is  the  history  of  his  mind,  the 
flow  of  his  conscious  existence  ; for  what  are  to  us  woods,  moun- 
tains, trees,  or  stars,  but  names  we  attach  to  certain  facts  of  our 
consciousness  ? what  are  all  forms  of  the  material  world,  but  cer- 
tain visions  which  have  passed  through  our  own  minds — sensa- 
tions which  we  have  inwardly  experienced  ? 

This  being  the  case,  the  next  inquiry  is,  Are  we,  in  proceeding 
scientifically,  to  regard  the  supposed  objective  reality  around  us  as 
the  generative  principle  of  our  subjective  states ; or  are  we  to 
consider  our  subjective  states  as  the  generative  principle  of  the 
supposed  objective  reality  ? Do  we  experience  subjective  phe- 
nomena (as,  e.  g.,  sensations)  because  there  are  objective  existen- 
ces around  us?  or  do  we  suppose  objective  existences  to  exist, 
because  we  experience  certain  subjective  phenomena  ? S.Qjentif- 
ically  speaking,  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  to  us  the  subjective 
is  the  pirimitive ; from  this' we  take  our  start;  on  the  ground  of 
this  w'e  proceed  ; and  if  we  believe  in  an  objective  world  at  all,  it 
is  only  because  our  subjective  states  or  laws  of  thought  have  led 
us  to  do  so.  What  is  immediately  true  to  us,  are  our  sensations, 
perceptions,  and  ideas — it  is  our  reason  which  supposes  an  exter- 
nal world,  in  order  to  account  for  them.  Whatever,  therefore, 
the  real  fact  may  be  to  the  eye  of  the  Creator,  the  only  scientific 
plan  we  can  proceed  upon,  is  to  analyze  our  own  consciousness,  to 
regard  self  as  the  absolute  principle,  and  to  view  everything  else 
as  constructed,  so  far  as  we  ai’e  concerned,  by  the  necessaiy  ex- 
ertion of  its  own  subjective  laws.  Man  begins  by  observing  the 
-facts  of  his  consciousness  ; on  the  faith  of  those  facts  he  con- 
ceives for  himself  all  the  forms  of  the  external  world ; in  those 
facts  he  remains  shut  up  till  he  leaves  the  stage  of  his  earthly  ex- 
istence. Philosophy,  therefore,  must  disregard  everything  else, 
and  confine  itself  simply  to  this  subjective  sphere.  To  it  nature 
is  nothing,  mind  is  everything,  for  nature  is  only  known  as  imaged 
in  the  mind. 

In  constructing,  then,  a science  upon  these  principles,  we  must 
first  look  attentively  at  the  consciousness  itself  in  its  primitive 
state.  We  find,  in  doing  so,  that  as  far  back  as  our  recollection 
goes,  sensations,  perceptions,  representations  of  various  kinds,  and 
in  various  degrees  of  intensity,  have  ever  existed  there.  How 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


419 


they  have  come,  it  is  not  for  us  to  explain ; all  we  know  is,  that 
they  are  there,  apparently  in  accordance  with  the  original  con- 
stitution of  the  active,  thinking  principle,  which  we  term  mind,  or 
self  In  same  of  our  mental  processes  we  are  conscious  of  putting 
forth  our  own  free  activity ; but  in  the  case  now  before  us — that 
of  our  sensations — the  mind  apparently  is  not  free ; on  the  con- 
trary, it  feels  itself  constrained,  opposed,  determined.  We  are 
obliged  to  have  certain  feelings,  and  to  possess  certain  objects  in 
our  consciousness  ; and  the  only  reason  we  can  give  for  it  is,  that 
we  are  so  formed  by  nature,  and  that  the  spontaneous  activity  of 
our  minds  is  such  as  necessarily  to  produce  them.  Feeling  our- 
selves, however,  thus  cii'cumscribed,  we  imagine  that  an  actual 
reality  out  of  us  exists,  from  which  this  resistance  proceeds ; in 
other  words,  we  objectify  the  laws  by  which  our  activity  is  limited, 
in  order  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  that  limitation,  and  call  it 
matter. 

Let  any  one,  says  Fichte,  regard  the  facts  of  our  experience 
from  the  subjective  point  of  view  we  have  above  explained,  and 
see  whether  the  description  of  them  which  is  there  given,  is  not 
literally  a true  one.  The  ordinary  procedure  of  philosophers  has 
usually  been  exactly  the  reverse.  They  have  first  assumed  an  ex- 
ternal world,  and  then  from  that  assumption  have  explained  all  the 
facts  of  our  consciousness  which  come  within  the  limits  of  sensa- 
tion. The  true  scientific  procedure,  however,  is  undoubtedly  this : 
I am  conscious  of  certain  feelings,  certain  representations,  certain 
inward  pictures  so  to  say ; and  in  order  to  account  for  them,  I 
infer  the  existence  of  external  things.  To  first  that  the  objects 
exist,  and  then  that  our  sensations  come  from  them,  just  reverses 
the  chronological  order  of  the  process,  and  is  no  other  than  involv- 
ing ourselves  in  a vicious  circle,  by  reasoning  first,  that  our  sensa- 
tions exist  because  there  are  objects  present  to  cause  them,  and 
then,  that  real  objects  must  be  present,  because  we  have  the  sensa- 
tions. T wo  realities  cannot  be  mutually  generative  of  each  other ; 
the  one  must  be  the  antecedent,  the  other  the  consequent ; and  in 
this  case  there  can  be  no  hesitation  in  assigning  the  fact  of  con- 
sciousness as  the  antecedent,  since  it  is  only  through  it,  that  we 
could  ever  come  to  have  the  slightest  idea  of  any  objective  re- 
ality. 

The  true  history  of  our  inner  life’s  experience,  then,  from  the 
subjective  point  of  view,  is  the  following.  The  mind  is  first  of  all 
unconsciously  active ; in  this  unconscious  or  spontaneous  activity, 


420 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


we  soon  find  ourselves  limited  by  the  laws  of  our  being  ; and  then, 
ere  we  come  to  the  idea  of  self  as  the  real  subject  of  all  these  ex- 
periences, we  throw  ourselves  entirely  into  the  contemplation  of 
these  limitations,  objectify  them,  and  term  them  an  external  world. 
After  a time,  however,  the  spontaneous  action  of  the  mind  begins 
to  give  way  to  the  reflective  ; we  become  gradually  conscious  of 
our  own  activity  ; we  recall  our  thinking  self  from  its  absorption 
in  what  it  regards  as  an  outward  world  ; we  commence  reading  the 
contents  of  our  own  consciousness  as  such ; and  at  length  find  that 
the  mind  alone  is  the  sphere  of  its  own  operations ; that  it  is  at 
once  subject  and  object,  the  absolute  starting  point,  and  the  sole 
sphere  of  all  scientific  knowledge. 

The  necessity  of  certain  limitations  existing  to  the  mind’s 
activity  is  seen  from  the  fact,  that  were  it  not  so,  we  should  lose 
ourselves  in  the  infinite  ; we  should  never  come  to  a I’esting  point, 
never  have  any  clear  and  defined  perceptions ; all  this,  however, 
is  prevented  by  the  original  constitution  of  our  being,  which  keeps 
us  within  proper  bounds,  and  stops  us  at  certain  limits,  which  limits 
we  term  outward  and  material  reality.  This  is  what  Fichte  means 
when  he  speaks  of  those  “ inexplicable  absolute  limitations,”  which 
in  his  system  are  to  take  the  place  of  external  things ; he  puts  the 
inward  conscious  reality  in  the  place  of  what  is  with  other  philoso- 
phei's  the  outward  object ; he  puts  the  perception  in  place  of  the 
thing  perceived  ; the  feeling  of  resistance  or  limitation  in  place  of 
the  matter  which  resists  and  limits ; in  a word,  he  views  every- 
thing subjectively  from  the  central  point  of  his  own  consciousness, 
describes  everything  as  it  appears  from  thence,  and  makes  that 
point  the  pedestal  of  his  whole  system. 

Let  it  be  remembered,  however,  that  it  is  only  in  the  theoretical 
point  of  view,  that  we  are  compelled  to  this  rigid  course  of  reason- 
ing. If  we  are  required  to  describe  what  we  can  positively  know, 
all  we  can  do  is  to  give  the  history  of  our  consciousness.  What- 
ever has  passed  there  we  know  to  have  been,  as  far  as  we  are  con- 
cerned, A REALITY  | whatever  lies  beyond  it,  can  be  the  object  of 
faith,  but  not  of  science.  In  the  practical  point  of  view,  however, 
where  we  can  step  from  the  region  of  knowledge  into  that  of  faith, 
external  things  again  find  their  I'eal  meaning  and  importance  ; they 
become  then  the  work-tools  of  our  life’s  activity,  the  instruments 
by  which  we  perform  our  duty  and  attain  our  destiny.* 

♦ For  a popular  view  of  Fichte’s  method,  similar,  but  somewhat  more  detailed  than 
what  we  have  given  above,  consult  Chalybaus’  “ Entwickelung,”  chap.  vii.  For  the  same 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


421 


Having  given  this  general  description  of  the  nature  and  spirit 
of  Fichte’s  subjective  idealism,  we  shall  now  point  out  the  formal 
and  technical  method  by  which  he  expressed  and  systematized 
these  results. 

Let  it  be  premised  that  the  absolute  principle  of  all  philosophy 
must  be  found  within  us,  since  it  is  our  subjective  states  alone, 
which  we  can  know  immediately,  and  which  can  afford,  therefore, 
a certain  ground  to  start  from.  But  on  looking  within,  all  we  are 
conscious  of  are  certain  acts  or  processes  ; of  the  substance  of  the 
mind,  of  pure  essential  spirit,  we  know  absolutely  nothing.  The 
clearest  notion,  then,  which  we  have  of  the  mind  is,  that  it  is  the 
power  of  thinking ; the  clearest  that  we  have  of  the  consciousness, 
that  it  is  the  point  or  focus  in  which  all  our  thoughts  unite,  and 
from  which  they  appear  to  emanate. 

In  order,  therefore,  to  obtain  a starting  point  for  a system  of 
pure  science,  we  must  look  steadfastly  into  our  own  consciousness, 
and  find  some  act  of  the  mind’s  own  spontaneous  production,  which 
can  be  regarded  in  every  way  as  axiomatically  true : such  being 
found,  it  would  give  us  the  absolute  and  unconditional  principle  of 
all  human  knowledge.*  This  primitive  act  is  none  other  than  the 
principle  of  identity  (Satz  der  Identitat)  A = A,  a principle  which 
is  unconditionally  certain,  both  as  to  its  matter  and  its  form.  No 
one  will  dispute  the  proposition  A = A,  when  it  is  not  enunciated 
as  though  A implied  any  particular  existence,  but  simply  hypothet- 
ically— that  if  A is,  then  it  is  equal  to  A.  And  yet,  in  affirming 
A = A,  I pass  a judgment — I think  ; and  in  doing  so  I affirm  my- 
self— so  that  the  identity  of  the  me  is  here  asserted,  and  the  propo- 
sition becomes  Ego  = Ego.  It  will  be  seen  at  once,  that  in  laying 
down  this  as  the  absolute  starting  point,  Fichte  came  very  near  to 
the  foundation  principle  of  Descartes — Cogito  ergo  sum.f 

The  second  absolute  principle  is  the  category  of  negation,  which 
may  be  thus  expressed,  — A is  not  = A.  This  proposition  is  con- 
ditional as  to  matter,  because  it  depends  upon  the  previous  truth 
A = A,  but  it  is  unconditional  as  to  form.  Viewed  as  an  absolute 
act  of  the  mind,  the  equation  becomes.  The  not-me  is  not  = the 
me.  By  the  former  proposition  the  me  affirmed  itself;  by  this 

purpose,  Fichte’s  small  treatise,  “ Ueber  den  Begriff  der  Wissenschaftslehre,”  which 
was  the  first  idea  he  gave  of  his  pecuhar  philosophy,  can  be  read  with  advantage. 

* “ Begriff  der  Wissenschaftslehre,”  p.  12,  et  seq.,  and  “ Sonnenklarer  Bericht,” 

p.  218.' 

t “ Grundlage  der  gesammten  Wissenschaftslehre,”  p.  4,  et  seq. 

N.B. — This  is  the  work  usually  referred  to  simply  as  Wissenschaftslehre.  There  are 
other  heads  of  lectures  in  his  posthumous  works,  which  have  the  same  title. 


422 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


second  act,  the  me  aflirms  a not-me ; that  is,  it  places  something 
before  it,  which  is  opposed  to  self.  In  other  words,  in  the  one  case 
the  mind  views  itself  as  the  absolute  subject : now  it  views  itself 
as  object,  forming  thus  the  opposition  which  is  necessary  to  every 
act  of  consciousness.* 

The  first  of  the  above  propositions  is  an  absolute  affirmation — 
the  second  an  absolute  negation.  But  these  two  comprise  a con- 
tradiction in  themselves ; so  that  we  need  a third  principle,  by 
which  the  positive  and  negative  shall  be  united.  Now  the  union 
of  the  positive  and  negative  gives  the  notion  of  limitation;  and 
consequently  the  third  formula  of  fundamental  philosophy  may  be 
thus  expressed  : — The  me  affirms  itself  to  be  determined  by  a not- 
me,  and  vice  versa ; a formula  which  is  conditional  both  in  its 
matter  and  form.f 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  primitive  and  absolute  processes  of  the 
mind,  as  a pure  activity.  First,  it  asserts  its  own  being — an  abso- 
lute subject : — next,  it  affirms  the  existence  of  something  opposed 
to  itself — an  absolute  object : — lastly,  it  solves  this  contradiction, 
by  showing  that  the  positive  and  negative,  the  subject  and  object, 
limit  and  determine  each  other ; so  that,  as  the  one  rises  to  view, 
the  other  disappears.  In  this  hovering  between  subject  and  object, 
all  our  knowledge  is  cradled. J 

Having  laid  down  the  absolute  principles  of  all  science,  Fichte 
proceeds  to  divide  the  Wissenschaftslehre  into  two  parts,  the  theo- 
retical and  the  practical.  From  the  foregoing  propositions,  two 
principles  result.  1.  That  the  me  affirms  itself  to  be  determined 
by  a not-me  ; and,  2.  That  notwithstanding  this,  the  not-me  is 
itself  affirmed,  and  determined  by  the  me.  The  former  of  these 
is  the  basis  of  theoretical  science,  the  latter  of  practical.  § 

1.  Of  Theoretical  Science.  Here  we  have  to  view  and  ex- 
plain all  the  phenomena  which  result  from  the  mind’s  activity  be- 
ing determined  by  what  appears  to  be  an  object.  These  phenom- 
ena are  of  course  the  different  relations  which  the  me  holds  to  the 
not-me,  the  subject  to  its  self-affirmed  object.  Now,  if  we  regard 
the  me  and  the  not-me  as  mutually  determining  and  limiting  each 
other,  (which  is  shown  in  the  third  fundamental  axiom,)  this  gives 
us  the  category  of  action  and  reaction.\\  Again,  if  we  regard  the 

♦ Wissenschaftslehre,  p 17,  ct  seq. 

t Ibid.  p.  23,  et  seq, 

j;  These  three  principles  correspond  with  Kant’s  three  judgments — Affirmation,  ne- 
gation, and  limitation — or  thesis,  antithesis,  and  synthesis. 

^ See  Michelet’s  “ Geschichte  der  letzten  Sys.”  vol.  i.  p.  458. 

II  Wissenschaftslehre  p.  58. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


423 


me  as  itself  giving  its  reality  to  the  not-me,  and  in  so  far  becoming 
passive  to  its  influence,  we  have  the  category  of  cause  and  effect — 
action  and  suffering.*  Lastly,  according  as  we  regard  the  me  as 
embracing  all  reality  in  itself,  or  admitting  other  reality  besides, 
we  get  the  notions  of  substance  and  accident.f  Hei'e,  then,  we 
have  all  the  elementary  ideas,  which  go  to  form  the  conception  of 
an  external  object — we  have  substance  and  accident,  cause  and 
effect,  action  and  reaction.  It  only  remains  further  to  show  by 
what  process  the  object  itself  is  placed  clearly  before  the  mind’s 
vision  as  a concrete  reality.  To  see  this  it  must  be  clearly  kept 
in  memory,  that  the  law  of  the  mind’s  activity  presents  the  con- 
stant phenomenon  of  the  mutual  action  and  reaction  of  subject  and 
object,  of  the  me  and  not-me,  upon  each  other.  The  imagination 
here  comes  into  play,  and  pictures,  as  it  were,  this  process — this 
action  and  reaction  ; holding  it  up,  as  though  it  were  a reality, 
clearly  before  our  own  consciousness.  The  consequence  is,  that 
we  view  the  reality  which  the  me  takes  from  itself,  and  attributes 
to  the  not-me,  as  a veritably  existing  thing,  out  of  ourselves — the 
representation  which  the  imagination  gives  us,  being  thus  objecti- 
fied. This  phenomenon  is  what  we  usually  term  perception,  and 
it  only  requires  the  further  operation  of  the  understanding,  and  the 
judgment,  to  make  the  whole  process  complete,  and  thus  place  an 
external  world  with  all  its  relations,  and  created  from  the  subjec- 
tive laws  of  the  mind’s  own  action,  before  our  view.  J 

On  the  foregoing  theory,  Fichte  considered,  that  the  problem  of 
realism  and  idealism  was  fully  resolved,  inasmuch  as  the  nature  of 
the  relation  that  subsists  between  the  perceiving  mind  and  the  ob- 
ject of  its  perceptions,  is  at  length  unfolded.  The  mind  itself  is  the 
absolute  principle  and  source  of  ev'erything;  by  its  original  and 
spontaneous  movement  it  constructs  for  itself  the  notion  of  an  ex- 
ternal world,  and  again  by  its  reflective  movement  it  comes  back 
to  the  perception  of  its  own  personal  exertion  put  forth  in  the  whole 
process.  The  idea  of  the  objective  arises  from  the  self-limitation 
of  our  own  free  activity,  and  answers  to  a mental  affection ; the 
idea  of  the  subjective  arises  from  the  direct  consciousness  of  our 
free  activity,  and  answers  to  a mental  exertion.  The  one  serves 
to  develop  the  notion  of  the  other ; without  subject,  there  is  no  ob- 
ject perceived  ; without  object  there  is  no  subject.  The  me  affirms 
or  constructs  the  not-me,  and  the  not-me,  on  the  other  hand,  de- 

♦ Wissenschaftslehre,  p.  62,  et  seq.  t Ibid.  p.  69. 

J Wissenschaftslehre,  p.  175  to  200. 


424 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


termines  the  me ; and  consequently  the  claims  of  realism  and  ideal- 
ism here  unite,  and  the  absolute  principle  of  all  knowledge  is  dis- 
covered in  the  centre  of  our  own  consciousness.  Thus,  at  length 
the  great  fundamental  question  of  philosophy,  that  which  seeks  to 
determine  the  relation  of  thought  and  existence,  is  settled,  because 
all  existence  is  shown  to  be  synonymous  with  thought,  and  the 
union  of  the  two  notions  is  found  in  the  spontaneous  movement  of 
the  mind  itself. 

From  these  principles,  again,  Fichte  derives  a psychological  ex- 
planation of  all  the  different  phenomena  of  the  human  mind.  If  we 
reflect  upon  the  laws  by  which  our  activity  is  limited,  and  see 
them  producing,  as  it  were,  the  obstacle  which  the  me  affirms,  as 
opposed  to  itself,  (according  to  the  second  fundamental  axiom — 
Das  ich  setzt  sich  ein  nicht-ich  entgegen,)  the  result  is  termed  a 
feeling  or  sensation.  Again,  when  the  mind  loses  itself  in  the  ob- 
ject perceived,  and  thus  sees  in  the  me  a something  which  appears 
altogether  the  production  of  the  not-me,  we  term  it  a -perception. 
(By  this  Fichte  explains  the  phenomena  of  continuity,  of  extension, 
of  time,  and  of  space)  The  power  by  which  a sensation  is  fixed 
and  retained,  is  that  usually  termed  the  understanding.  The  judg- 
ment is  that  which  unites  the  free  working  of  the  mind  (termed 
imagination)  with  the  understanding,  producing  a free  decision 
upon  the  various  objects  which  our  understanding  creates ; and, 
lastly,  if  we  overcome  all  limitations,  and  view  the  mind  alone  in 
its  free  all-producing  power,  we  have  the  highest  faculty  in  man, 
that  denominated  pure  reason.*  To  attain  this  point  is  not  possi- 
ble in  the  theoretical,  but  is  seen  first  in  the  practical  branch  of  phi- 
losophy. The  object  of  the  theoretical  division  of  the  Wissen- 
schaftslehre,  therefore,  is  now  accomplished.  All  the  different  de- 
terminations of  the  me  by  the  not-me,  are  explained.  The  cate- 
gories of  our  experimental  knowledge  are  all  deduced  ; the  phenom- 
ena of  consciousness  as  engaged  in  the  production  of  our  sensa- 
tions, perceptions,  and  judgments,  are  expounded  ; and  we  are 
brought  to  the  point  where  the  whole  process  is  to  be  seen,  as  the 
pure  production  of  the  mind’s  own  certainty.  This  leads  us  to 
consider, 

II.  The  practical  side  of  Fichte’s  philosophy.  In  the  theoretical 
part  of  the  system  we  have  seen  that  the  me  is  determined  by  a 
not-me ; that  there  are  certain  limitations  of  its  own  free  and  intel- 
ligent activity,  a certain  resistance  (Anstoss)  to  its  own  powers  of 

* Wissenschaftslehre,  203,  et  seq. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


425 


conception,  which  are  personified  and  regarded  as  external  reali- 
ties. This  circumscribing  of  our  freedom,  and  the  consequent  ne- 
cessity of  imagining  a material  world  around  us,  we  are  unable 
theoretically  to  account  for : all  we  can  say  is,  that  such  is  the  con- 
stitution of  our  consciousness,  such  the  truth  of  things  as  given  in 
our  own  experience,  and  that  we  can  go  no  further  towards  an  ex- 
planation of  the  phenomena.  In  the  practical  view  of  the  case, 
however,  we  can  go  one  step  further  back ; we  can  show  that  the 
limitation  of  our  free  intelligence  does  not  arise  from  any  foreign 
source,  but  may  be  deduced  from  the  original,  though  unconscious 
activity  of  the  mind  itself.  All  this  is  deducible  out  of  the  funda- 
mental axiom  of  the  practical  division  of  Fichte’s  system,  namely — 
That  the  not-me  is  affirmed  as  determined  by  the  me.* 

To  show  this,  we  must  observe  that  mind,  though  positively  free, 
though  viewed  abstractedly  only  in  the  light  of  pure  spontaneous 
activity,  whose  essence  is  independence  and  self-existence,  yet  is 
not  by  any  means  a vague,  aimless,  useless  activity.  It  has  a 
purely  rational  nature,  by  virtue  of  Avhich  it  sets  before  itself  its 
own  aim,  the  object  of  its  own  free  activity.  To  deny  this  would 
be  to  deny  the  very  existence  of  mind  itself ; to  ask  why  it  is  so, 
would  be  to  ask  why  truth  is  truth.  The  mind,  or  as  Fichte  al- 
ways terms  it,  the  me,  ever  strives  after  self-development ; it  seeks 
to  realize  fully  its  own  nature,  and  to  bring  into  actual  existence 
all  that  lies  potentially  in  its  consciousness.  This  perpetual  striv- 
ing after  self-development  is  the  most  profound  and  essential  truth 
of  our  existence ; it  is  the  centre  of  our  activity,  the  one  realistic 
point  around  which  all  that  activity  revolves,  and  for  which  it  is 
all  put  forth — the  uniting  point  of  the  absolute,  the  practical,  and 
the  intelligent  self.'\ 

Here,  then,  we  can  show  the  reason  of  the  limitation  of  our  free 
intelligence.  The  mind  striving  after  its  self-formed  aim  would 
proceed  onwards  in  its  progress  into  infinity — it  would  thus  find  no 
point  at  which  to  stop,  nothing  to  give  a determination  to  its  ac- 
tivity, no  means  of  becoming  a cause  of  something  else.  Accord- 
ingly, to  prevent  this,  it  places  an  obstacle  in  its  own  way — it  sup- 
poses a real  objective  existence,  and  in  this  manner  gives  definite- 
ness and  satisfaction  to  its  own  inward  practical  impulse.  From  this 
point  we  see  the  utility,  yea,  the  necessity,  of  supposing  a material 
world  around  us.  Without  it  we  could  never  realize  our  duty,  or 
have  the  material  necessary  for  working  out  our  destiny.  “ The 

♦ Wissenschaftslehre,  p.  228,  et  seq.  t Wissenschaftslehre,  p.  236,  et  seq. 


426 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


world,”  says  Fichte,  “is  the  sensized  material  of  our  practical 
life,  the  means  by  which  we  place  before  us,  as  object,  the  aim  and 
end  of  our  existence.”* 

The  whole  principle  of  practical  or  moral  philosophy,  then,  is 
easily  deduced  from  the  original  activity  of  the  me,  as  the  absolute, 
the  self-determined  existence.  The  law  of  our  duty,  the  categori- 
cal imperative,  as  Kant  has  it,  is  the  original  striving  of  mind  after 
self-development ; and  since  activity  is  both  the  essence  and  the 
end  of  our  being,  everything  else  is  constructed  by  it  in  order  to 
subserve  this  great  purpose.  So  far,  therefore,  is  Fichte  from  sub- 
verting, in  his  practical  philosophy,  the  complete  idealism  of  his 
theoretical,  that  we  find  idealism  here  in  its  purest  and  most  ele- 
vated form.  It  is  the  practical  view  of  human  nature  which  gives 
us  the  reason  or  ground  of  the  phenomenon  which  we  term  matter ; 
showing  us  that  the  limitations  of  our  intelligence  or  the  obstacles 
to  our  activity,  (which  in  his  system  take  the  place  of  objective 
reality,)  are  the  necessary  product  of  the  mind  itself  in  its  attempts 
to  accomplish  its  duty,  and  at  length  to  realize  its  final  destiny. 
Having  thus,  in  his  “ Wissenschaftslehre,”  laid  down  the  absolute 
axioms  of  all  science,  and  then  developed  them  successively  in 
their  theoretical  and  practical  aspects,  Fichte  w’ent  boldly  forward 
to  show  the  application  of  his  principles  to  the  other  branches  of 
philosophical  inquiry.  The  work  to  which  we  have  chiefly  re- 
ferred in  the  preceding  sketch,  came  out  in  the  year  1794.  In  1796 
appeared  his  “ Naturrecht,”  in  which  he  has  contemplated  man  in 
society  ; and  in  1798  his  “ Sittenlehre,”  in  which  we  have  a com- 
plete system  of  moral  philosophy.  The  latter  led  him  into  the  prov- 
ince of  religion  ; and  here,  too,  he  did  not  shrink  from  carrying 
out  his  scientific  principles  to  their  full,  and,  we  may  add,  their 
fatal  extent. 

. That  such  a system  of  subjective  idealism  as  we  have  portrayed, 
could  arrive  at  no  conclusion  respecting  the  existence  of  God,  is 
almost  self-evident.  If  we  look  out  into  the  universe,  what  do  we  see  ? 
Simply  the  reflex  of  our  own  activity,  the  objectified  laws  of  our 
own  being.  If  we  ask  after  the  Creator  of  the  universe,  therefore, 
the  answer  returned  is,  that  it  is  created  by  ourselves  for  the  sake 
of  realizing  our  own  self-development.  Self  being  once  laid  down 
as  the  absolute  principle  of  all  philosophy,  we  can  never  get  beyond 
it  so  as  to  affirm  the  objective  reality  of  aught,  either  in  the  mate- 
rial or  spiritual  world.  The  only  God  we  can  affirm  is  simply  the 

» See  Chalybiius’  “ Entwickelung,”  chap.  viii. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


427 


idea  of  moral  order — an  idea  to  which  we  can  only  by  a logical 
fallacy  append  the  notion  of  any  essential  and  personal  existence. 
To  have  an  idea  of  God,  is  to  limit  him,  that  is,  to  destroy  the 
very  notion  of  an  infinite  being ; so  that,  in  fact,  every  precise 
notion  we  form  of  God  must  be  an  idol.  It  was  from  this  conclu- 
sion that  originated  the  reputation  of  atheism  which  Fichte  incurred, 
and  which  drew  down  upon  him  the  enmity  and  opposition  of 
many  both  of  the  learned  and  the  great.* 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  sketch,  that  the  philosophy  of 
Fichte  brought  to  a complete  consummation  the  subjective  ideal- 
istic tendency.  With  him  the  idea  of  nature,  and  the  idea  of  God, 
absolutely  vanished  : self  became  the  sole  existence  in  the  universe, 
and  from  its  own  absolute  power  and  activity  everything  else,  hu- 
man and  divine,  was  constructed.  Notwithstanding  the  results  to 
which  his  philosophy  led,  it  is  still  impossible  to  read  any  of  his 
more  celebrated  wi’itings  without  being  struck  with  admiration  at 
the  powerful  eloquence,  the  unwearied  energy  of  thought,  the  close 
and  almost  pitiless  logic,  with  which  he  compels  you  on  from  one 
conclusion  to  another.  So  far  from  answering  to  the  idea  of  a 
mystic  recluse,  dreaming  away  life  in  the  midst  of  the  ethereal  and 
shadowy  creations  of  his  own  fancy,  we  venture  to  affirm  that  never 
was  there  a man  more  intensely  practical ; never  one  more  formed 
to  struggle  with  the  stern  and  bitter  sufferings  of  life ; never  one 
who  was  more  able  to  dispel  the  shadows  and  phantoms  that  de- 
luded the  world,  and  to  gaze  upon  everything  in  its  naked  reality  ; 
never  a mind  more  clear,  more  deep,  more  sternly  logical,  more 
solemnly  earnest,  than  was  that  of  Fichte.  His  orations  to  the 
German  people  are  amongst  the  finest  specimens  of  patriotic  enthu- 
siasm, and  his  conduct  was  in  accordance  with  the  fire  of  his  dis- 
course : his  philosophy  throughout  bore  the  stamp  of  a mind  inured, 
to  an  almost  unexampled  degree,  to  abstract  thinking,  and  his  life 
gave  a perfect  mirror  of  that  philosophy,  inasmuch  as  the  inde- 
pendence of  his  spirit  was  ever  asserting  its  own  native  liberty, 
and  ever  breaking  with  unceasing  effort  through  the  shackles  by 
which  it  was  confined. f 

The  fundamental  error  which  Fichte  committed  in  his  philoso- 
phy, was  that  of  intrenching  himself  so  closely  within  the  circle  of 

♦ These  conclusions  are  found,  perhaps  most  distinctly,  in  Fichte’s  treatise,  “ Ueber 
den  Grund  unseres  Glaubens  an  eine  Gottliche  Weltordnung.”  It  should  be  stated, 
however,  that  he  rebutted  with  great  energy  the  charge  of  atheism , and  appeared,  in- 
deed, to  have  started  back  from  the  sweeping  conclusions  to  which  he  was  origmally  led. 

f Michelet’s  “ Geschichte,”  vol.  i.  p.  434. 


428 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


his  consciousness,  that  it  was  impossible  to  find  any  scientific  pas- 
sage from  thence  into  the  objective  world.  The  difference  between 
those  operations  of  the  mind  which  are  purely  rational  or  purely 
imaginative,  and  those  which  connect  us  with  the  world  without, 
was  entirely  overlooked.  In  opposition  to  this,  we  might  main- 
tain, that  consciousness,  to  which  he  appealed  as  the  supreme 
judge,  testifies  most  clearly,  that  while  the  notions  involved  in 
memory,  in  judgment,  &c.,  depend  simply  upon  the  subjective 
power  of  those  faculties,  our  perceptions  come  from  a foreign 
source,  and  contain  an  objective  element  which,  in  each  instance, 
combines  with  our  subjective  self  Fichte,  indeed,  acknowledges 
that  this  is  the  phenomenon  presented  in  perception  ; he  admits  that 
we  seem  to  be  really  conscious  of  an  opposing  and  limiting  force, 
or  in  his  own  words,  of  a not-self ; but  he  attempts  to  account  for 
this  by  supposing,  that  there  are  certain  absolute  and  inexplicable 
limits  (absolute  unerkliirliche  Schranken)  in  the  very  constitution 
of  our  own  minds,  and  that  the  obstacle  (Anstoss)  to  our  free  ac- 
tivity presented  by  that  which  we  term  the  objective  world,  is  self- 
constituted  according  to  the  laws  of  our  intellectual  nature.  It.  rs 
just  at  this  critical  point,  the  point  which  determines  the  complete 
subjectivity  of  his  whole  system,  that  Fichte  has  failed,  and  become 
involved  in  absurdity.  He  supposes  mind  to  be  pure  spontaneous 
activity,  and  yet  he  assigns  to  it  certain  limits  lying  within  its  own 
nature ; in  other  words,  he  makes  it  to  be  in  the  very  nature  of  a 
perfectly  free  and  spontaneous  being  to  have  some  limit  to  its  free- 
dom— an  idea  which  plainly  implies  a contradiction  in  terms.* 
This  limitation  or  obstacle  which  holds  so  important  a place  in 
the  system  before  us,  was,  in  fact,  never  satisfactorily  explained  ; 
and  while  it  presented  an  insoluble  point  itself,  it  prevented  the 
full  and  final  solution  of  the  great  problem  of  ideal  philosophy,  viz. 
that  of  identifying  thought  and  existence.  The  sphere  of  existence, 
in  Fichte’s  system,  was  supposed  exactly  synonymous  with  the 
sphere  of  thought ; but  the  unexplained  limitation  of  the  mind’s 
activity  implied  the  real  existence  of  somewhat,  altogether  beyond 
the  bounds  of  that  consciousness  ; so  that,  after  all,  the  conflicting 
claims  of  realism  and  idealism  were  not  satisfled,  thought  and  ex- 
istence not  absolutely  identifled  in  their  source.  Again,  the  very 
point  which  Fichte  aimed  at,  that  of  reducing  all  our  knowledge 
to  one  simple  principle,  was  by  no  means  accomplished.  Several 
of  our  fundamental  ideas  are  tacitly  supposed,  from  the  very  begin- 
* Chalybdus,  p.  178. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


429 


ning  of  his  system.  The  notions  of  reality,  activity,  limitation, 
&c.,  are  all  made  use  of ; and  the  principles  of  formal  logic  are 
employed,  without  any  attempt  to  show  from  whence  they  are  de- 
duced. The  Wissenschaftslehre,  therefore  is  not  so  fundamental 
and  all-embracing  as  it  would  have  us  to  believe : by  employing 
ideas  such  as  those  above  mentioned,  it  points  us  to  something 
more  primitive  than  itself.* 

It  might  further  be  objected  against  Fichte,  that  he  never  showed 
on  what  ground  we  are  at  liberty  to  conclude,  that  although  the 
me  and  the  not-me  mutually  determine  each  other,  and  only  exist 
as  determined  by  each  other,  yet  that  l\i&  former  is  a real  existence, 
and  the  latter  a nonentity.  If  the  one  proves  to  be  nothing  per  se, 
who  shall  say  that  the  other  may  not  prove  the  same ; and  who  is 
to  prevent  the  whole  system  before  us  from  incurring  the  charge 
laid  against  it  by  Jacobi,  of  ending  in  absolute  nihilism?  Again  ; 
how  is  it  to  be  accounted  for,  if  to  each  individual  the  me  is  the 
absolute  principle  of  all  things,  that  there  are  so  many  absolute 
principles  in  the  world  ? as  many,  in  fact,  as  there  are  men  ? The 
only  explanation  of  this  point  that  can  'be  attempted,  is,  that  it  is 
not  the  individual  me  that  manifests  itself  in  every  man,  but  the 
absolute  or  divine  me,  of  which  every  man  is  an  image  or  reflection. 
If  the  former  hypothesis  be  taken,  then  the  most  absurd  system  of 
nihilism,  as  above  indicated,  is  the  result ; if  the  latter,  then  we 
have  Spinoza’s  doctrine  over  again  in  another  form,  and  this  pre- 
tended structure  of  a critical  philosophy  becomes,  in  fact,  a purely 
dogmatical  system,  which,  on  Fichte’s  own  principles,  as  an  ad- 
vocate of  “ Wissenschaftslehre,”  ought  to  be  summarily  rejected. 
That  Fichte  felt  the  force  of  these  and  similar  objections  made 
against  his  philosophy,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  he  relinquished 
his  purely  subjective  position,  and  afterwards  attempted  an  entii'e 
revision  of  its  fundamental  principles.  To  these  later  views,  there- 
fore, we  must  now,  in  conclusion,  briefly  refer. 

In  the  original  form  of  his  metaphysics,  Fichte  not  only  banished 
the  idea  of  matter  as  a solid  impenetrable  substance,  but  allowed 
no  other  real  existence  at  all  beyond  that  of  a certain  subjective  ac- 
tivity (Thatigkeit),  ever  working  in  accordance  with  a given  law  or 
design.  Mind  was  with  him  simply  action,  and  everything  else  was 
the  product  of  mind,  brought  into  being  by  virtue  of  the  orginal  laws, 
to  which  it  is  subjected.  What  we  see  in  the  world  of  objective 

* This  objection  is  stated  very  clearly  by  M.  Remusat,  in  the  Introduction  to  his 
“ Rapport,”  p.  xlii.  We  may  refer  our  readers  to  this  work  as  containing  one  of  the 
best  critiques  on  Fichte  which  have  yet  appeared. 


430 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


existence,  WDS  with  him  simply  the  reflex  of  our  own  faculties; 
and  to  be  a pure  subjective  idealist,  was  to  absorb  the  whole  notion 
of  existence  in  that  of  law,  the  law  of  our  personal  activity.  The 
ofiice  of  sustaining  a system  of  philosophy  on  this  purely  subjective 
basis,  as  we  have  seen,  proved  no  easy  task.  The  inquiry  was 
perpetually  urged.  What  is  the  ground  or  essence  of  the  activity, 
which  we  term  mind  ? Whence  its  laws,  its  limitations,  its  char- 
acteristics ? Must  there  not  be  something  real  at  the  foundation 
of  all  these  subjective  phenomena  ? In  truth,  is  not  something  of 
this  nature  admitted  by  the  fact  of  your  admitting  an  original  con- 
stitution at  all,  by  which  the  laws  of  our  consciousness  are  deter- 
mined ? Questions  of  this  description,  together  with  many  objec- 
tions of  a theological  kind,  gradually  led  Fichte  to  seek  for  another 
absolute  principle,  more  deep  and  more  comprehensive  than  the 
former,  upon  which  his  philosophy  might  securely  rest. 

On  reflection  he  saw,  that  to  deny  all  real  existence  in  our  per- 
ceptions, does  not  lead,  as  he  intended  it,  to  a system  of  pure  sci- 
entific idealism,  but  rather,  as  we  have  shown,  to  a system  of 
nihilism.  Allow  that  our  free  activity  represents  certain  notions 
to  itself,  there  must  be,  thought  Fichte,  something  implied  in  them 
which  is  represented.  Mere  knowing  can  be  nothing,  unless  there 
is  something  which  is  known  ; mere  thinking  can  be  nothing,  un- 
less there  is  something  which  is  thought ; and  mere  perception  can 
be  nothing,  unless  there  is  something  which  is  perceived.  To 
make  our  subjective  activity  in  the  act  of  knowing,  perceiving,  &c., 
the  absolute,  is  to  suppose  that  that  the  only  reality  in  the  universe 
is  a perceiving  which  perceives  nothing,  a thinking  which  thinks 
nothing,  a knowing  which  knows  nothing. 

But,  then,  the  question  returns.  How  is  it  possible  to  arrive  at 
this  real  essential  existence  which  is  imaged  and  represented  in 
our  own  minds  ? for  the  moment  we  attempt  to  do  so  scientifically, 
the  old  argument  against  representationism  returns,  which  again 
seems  to  shut  us  up  within  our  own  consciousness.  Pure  subjec- 
tive idealism,  which  admits  no  real  existence  beyond  our  own  con- 
sciousness, is  beset  with  difficulties  on  the  one  hand  ; but  the  ordi- 
nary dualism  of  philosophers  is  exposed  to  equal  objections  on  the 
other  hand.  In  the  former  case  there  is  no  basis,  on  which  the 
superstructure  can  rest,  to  keep  it  from  sinking  into  the  abyss  of 
nihilisrp  ; in  the  latter  case  we  have  no  guarantee  for  the  accuracy 
of  the  inward  representation  of  the  outward  reality,  and  conse- 
quently, no  means  of  arriving  at  absolute  knowledge  at  all.  Is  it 


THE  GEEMAN  SCHOOL. 


431 


not  possible,  then,  thought  Fichte,  to  find  some  via  media,  by  which 
the  difficulties  of  both  these  extremes  could  be  avoided ; by  which 
a foundation  might  be  added  to  a system  of  idealism  otherwise 
baseless,  and  a relief  found  for  the  contradictions  of  dualism.  The 
only  resource  left  was  to  grant  one  absolute  existence,  which  is  the 
same  both  in  the  subject  and  the  object ; to  assert  equally  the  re- 
ality of  the  me  and  the  not-me,  and  with  it  the  identity  of  both  ; 
to  find  a common  principle  from  which  all  subjective  and  all  ob- 
jective phenomena  spring,  and  to  recognize  in  this  principle  an 
absolute  subject-object.  This  thought,  the  origination  of  which  is 
disputed  between  Fichte  and  Schelling,  was  the  foundation  of  the 
doctrine  of  identity  (Identitatslehre)  ; a doctrine  which,  if  it  did 
really  spring  from  the  improved  philosophy  of  the  former,  was 
only  developed,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  to  its  proper  form  in  the  writ- 
ings of  the  latter.* 

Under  this  view  of  the  case  the  basis  of  Fichte’s  philosophy  was 
now  completely  altered,  although  he  still  found  a starting-point  in 
the  me.  Instead  of  regarding  self  as  the  absolute,  by  which  every- 
thing else  is  constructed,  he  now  admitted  an  essential  reality  as 
the  foundation  both  of  self  and  not-self,  and  in  this  way  attributed 
a real  existence,  although  still  a spiritual  one,  to  the  objective 
world.  The  doctrine  of  identity  thus  propounded,  evidently  had 
a close  affinity  with  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza.  The  only  differ- 
ence in  the  two  lay  here — that,  while  Spinoza  fixed  his  eye  upon 
the  notion  of  substance,  until  he  made  it  the  absolute  and  infinite 
essence,  of  which  all  things  existing  are  but  different  modi,  Fichte 
still  retained  as  firm  as  ever  the  notion  of  free  and  intellisrent  ac-. 
tivity,  and  regarded  infinite  reason,  or  if  we  will  term  it  so,  eternal 
mind  or  the  Divine  idea,  as  the  absolute,  all-real,  self-existent 
essence,  which  manifests  itself  alike  in  the  subjective  and  the  ob- 
jective world.  According  to  this  view,  whatever  we  experience 
within  ourselves  and  whatever  we  see  without,  are  both  alike  the 
manifestations  of  one  and  the  same  absolute  mind,  i.  e.,  of  the 
Deity  himself ; not  merely  creations  of  his  power,  but  actual  modi- 
fications of  his  essence.  The  common  idea  of  matter  Fichte  never 
for  a moment  re-admitted.  He  still  held  to  his  original  position, 
that  mind  is  the  sole  existence,  that  the  whole  universe  is  a spirit- 
ual universe,  and  to  speak  of  dead  lifeless  substance,  lying  as  the 
substratum  of  what  we  term  material  properties,  and  of  the  laws  of 
action,  which  we  perceive  around  us,  is  going  entirely  beyrad  the 
♦ On  this  point,  see  Ghalybaus,  chap.  viii. 


432 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


region  of  our  actual  knowledge,  and  away  from  the  plain  indica- 
tions of  science.  Nay,  further,  he  did  not  allow  that  the  objective 
world  as  sucli,  can  make  any  impression  whatever  upon  the  sub- 
jective self;  but,  as  they  are  both  forms  and  manifestations  of  the 
same  Divine  idea,  he  considered  that  we  know,  to  a certain  extent, 
the  nature  of  what  passes  without  us,  from  our  direct  conscious 
ness  or  intuition  of  what  passes  within. 

Although  Fichte  had  thus  gained  a crude  and  indistinct  notion 
of  the  doctrine  of  identity,  yet  he  did  not  live  to  develop  it  in  all 
its  clearness,  or  to  apply  it  to  the  laws  and  processes  of  nature  in 
the  world.  The  phenomena  of  the  physical  world,  indeed,  still 
constituted  a dark  and  unresolved  point  in  his  philosophy  ; objec- 
tive existence,  as  seen  in  nature,  was  not  yet  placed  on  the  same 
footing  with  subjective  existence,  as  exhibited  in  the  laws  of  mind  ; 
the  identity  of  the  two  was  not  completely  thought  out ; the  phe- 
nomena of  our  sensations  not  fully  explained ; the  absolute  unity 
of  thought  and  existence,  as  attained  in  the  infinite  Being,  not 
completely  deduced.  To  perfect  the  doctrine  of  identity,  and  to 
apply  it  more  especially  to  the  world  of  nature,  was  the  merit  and 
the  boast  of  his  illustrious  successor. 

We  shall  just  glance,  therefore,  in  conclusion,  at  the  principal 
works  in  which  these  modified  views  were  expounded.  The  first 
work  which  gave  decided  indications  of  dissatisfaction  with  his 
original  stand-point,  was  the  “ Bestimmung  des  Menschen”  (Des- 
tination of  Man),  a popular  rather  than  scientific  treatise  on  hu- 
man knowledge  and  destiny.  The  object  of  it  is  to  show  how  the 
jnind,  when  it  once  begins  to  philosophize,  passes  from  doubt  to 
science,  and  from  science  to  a faith,  which  unfolds  the  real,  and 
gives  a solid  basis  for  our  confidence  in  immortality  and  in  God. 
This  was  followed  up  by  a little  treatise  of  admirable  clearness  of 
thought,  entitled,  “ Lucid  Intelligence  offered  to  the  public  at  large 
on  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  recent  Philosophy”  (1801).  No  stu- 
dent of  Fichte  should  overlook  this  brief  exposition,  which  gives 
in  little  more  than  two  hundred  small  pages,  the  chief  points  of  his 
whole  system  in  a popular  form.  But  the  most  important  work 
of  this  era  of  Fichte’s  life  was  his  “ Characteristics  of  the  present 
Age”  (1806),  the  main  object  of  which  was  to  develop  the  philos- 
ophy of  history.  The  foundation  of  his  theory  on  this  point  is,. that 
God  ever  reveals  himself  in  and  through  the  human  conscious- 
ness.  Every  age  of  the  world  is  preceded  by  some  great  idea, 
and  to  comprehend  any  given  period  aright,  we  must  take  a com- 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


433 


prehensive  view  of  the  whole  plan  of  human  history  as  grounded 
upon  ideas.  Fichte  divides  the  world’s  history  into  five  eras.  The 
first  is  the  age,  in  which  reason  prevails  simply  as  an  instinct,  or 
law  of  nature  ; the  second  is  the  age  of  authority,  in  which  the 
primitive  instinct  is  retained  only  by  a few  of  the  great  men  of 
their  time  ; the  third  is  the  age  in  which  authority  and  reason  are 
both  rejected,  and  universal  corruption  ensues  ; the  fourth  is  the 
age  of  science,  whdn  reason  in  its  reflective  form  begins  to  appear ; 
and  the  fifth  is  the  age  in  which  reason  reigns  supreme.  The  fa- 
mous “ Discourses  to  the  German  People”  may  be  regarded  as  the 
continuation  of  the  philosophy  of  history,  that,  namely,  in  which 
the  principles  there  laid  down  were  applied  to  the  interpretations 
of  the  state  of  Europe  as  it  then  existed.  The  little  treatise  on 
“ The  Nature  of  the  Scholar,”  shows  the  great  part  which  the  man 
of  genius  has  to  play  in  the  development  of  humanity ; and  lastly, 
the  “Anweisung  zum  seligen  Leben”  (Way  to  a Blessed  Life), 
winds  up  the  whole  system  with  a kind  of  lofty  and  stoical  relig- 
ious mysticism. 

We  may  remark,  in  fine,  that  the  latter  form  of  Fichte’s- philos- 
ophy was  in  many  respects  superior  to  the  former.  It  not  only 
overcame  many  of  its  contradictions,  but  pointed  more  decisively 
to  a region  in  which  faith  could  assure  us  of  the  reality  of  the 
world,  of  God,  and  of  an  immortality  to  come ; in  which  the  sub- 
jective limits  of  our  rational  nature  could  be  surpassed,  and  life  be 
rendered  blessed  in  the  confidence  of  our  partaking  the  Divine 
nature  here,  and  rising  to  the  fuller  participation  of  it  hereafter. 
Much  as  the  writings  of  this  energetic  thinker  have  lately  fallen  into 
neglect  in  his  own  country,  yet  it  is  unquestionable,  that  they  lie 
more  or  less  at  the  basis  of  all  the  modern  German  metaphysics ; 
nor  has  philosophy  since  his  time,  found  an  advocate  so  clear,  so. 
earnest,  so  fervidly  eloquent,  as  it  found  in  him.* 

We  must  now  pass  on  to  the  consideration  of  Schelling  and  his- 
philosophy,  by  which  we  shall  be  brought  almost  into  the  midst  of 
the  discussions  in  which  Germany  is  at  present  involved.  Fred- 
erick William  Joseph  Schelling  was  born  in  January  1775,  at  Le- 
onberg  in  Wiirtemberg.  He  studied  first  at  Tubingen,  where  he 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  Hegel,  while  both  were  yet  in  their 
eai'ly  youth.  After  this  he  went  to  Leipsic  and  Jena,  where  he 
devoted  himself  chiefly  to  medicine  and  philosophy,  in  the  latter 
of  which  departments  he  attended  the  lectures  of  Fichte.  In 

♦ See  an  account  of  Fichte’s  principal  works  in  the  Appendix,  Note  D, 

28 


434 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


1798,  he  succeeded  Fichte  in  the  chair  of  philosophy  at  Jena,  and 
obtained,  by  the  efforts  of  his  then  rising  genius,  the  greatest  ap- 
probation. In  1803,  he  accepted  the  professorship  of  philosophy 
at  Wurzburg,  and  in  1807  removed  to  Munich,  where,  with  some 
few  intervals,  he  resided  up  to  the  year  1841.  His  acceptance  of 
a professorship  at  Berlin,  in  that  year,  excited  the  greatest  atten- 
tion throughout  the  philosophical  world ; without  satisfying  the 
expectations,  however,  which  were  aroused,  he  soon  relinquished 
his  arduous  post,  in  order  that  he  might  end  his  days  (which  God 
grant  him)  in  peace. 

Schelling,  as  we  have  seen,  came  upon  the  stage  just  at  the  time 
when  Fichte  had  carried  his  subjective  philosophy  to  its  very  high- 
est pitch.  The  notion  of  self  had  with  him  absorbed  every  other ; 
the  individual  mind  was  made  the  absolute  generating  principle  of 
all  existence.  By  assigning,  however,  to  mind  certain  limitations 
lying  within  its  own  nature,  he  unconsciously  destroyed  its  ab- 
soluteness, and  involved  himself  in  inextricable  contradictions. 
Schelling  saw  clearly,  that  the  subjective  tendency  had  been  car- 
ried by  him  to  an  extreme ; that  it  was  necessary  to  return  to  the 
admission  of  some  actual  objective  reality;  and  that  the  absolute 
must  be  found  in  something  beyond  the  limits  of  our  own  indi- 
vidual consciousness.  Whether  the  first  notion  of  the  doctrine  of 
identity  (that  which  traces  both  subject  and  object  to  one  common 
source)  was  given  by  Fichte  or  Schelling,  we  cannot  determine : 
certain  it  is,  that  the  latter  was  the  first  to  see  the  doctrine  in  all  its 
clearness,  and  the  first  who  employed  it  as  the  groundwork  of  a 
complete  system  of  philosophy. 

Before  we  enter  more  particularly  into  Schelling’s  philosophy, 
it  will  be  useful  to  take  a general  view  of  his  literary  career,  and 
point  out  the  course  which  it  has  followed.  This  is  more  neces- 
sary, inasmuch  as  we  nowhere  find  a complete  system  drawn  out 
in  one  or  more  principal  works,  but  rather  a continued  course  of 
restless  speculation,  which  developed  itself  in  periodical  p'ublica- 
tions.  At  the  age  of  twenty  years,  Schelling  not  only  showed  an 
extraordinary  talent  for  philosophical  research,  but  had  begun  to 
separate  (though  but  slightly)  from  the  masters  under  whom  he  had 
studied.  His  first  attempt  was  to  elucidate  the  principle  of  “ the 
Absolute  ” or  unconditional,  on  which  Fichte  had  taken  his  stand. 
To  this  era  belong  his  “ Briefe  fiber  Dogmatismus  und  Kriticismus,” 
and  more  particularly  his  treatise  “ Vom  Ich,  als  Prinzip  der  Phil- 
osophie.’’  Starting  from  the  absolute  or  unconditional,  as  contain- 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


435 


ing  in  itself  equally  the  me  and  the  not-me,  the  subjective  and  the 
objective,  he  was  next  attracted  to  the  objective  element,  which,  he 
saw,  ought  to  furnish  a complete  explication  of  the  laws  and  pro- 
cesses of  nature.  Hence  originated  his  Natur-Philosophie,  which 
he  first  sketched  out  in  his  “ Ideen  zu  einer  Philosophie  der  Natur,” 
carried  on  still  further  in  the  treatise  “Von  der  Welt-seele,”  and 
completed  in  his  “ Erster  Entwurf  eines  Systems  der  Natur-phi- 
losophie.” 

Having  thus  developed  the  philosophy  of  nature,  Schelling  pro- 
ceeded to  the  subjective  element  in  human  knowledge,  the  result  of 
which  was  his  “System  des  Transcendentalen  Idealismus,”  which 
is  generally  regarded  as  the  masterpiece  of  his  philosophical  genius. 
The  objective  and  subjective  side  of  our  knowledge  being  now 
completed,  Schelling  declared  himself  prepared  to  bring  them  to  a 
perfect  unity,  by  furnishing  the  philosophy  of  “ the  Absolute  itself  j’ 
and  commenced  the  task  of  doing  so  in  the  “ Zeitschrift  fiir  Spec- 
ulative Physik.”  This  task,  however,  he  relinquished,  and  to  the 
present  day  its  completion  remains  a promise,  with  little  chance  of 
a performance. 

The  next  literary  labor  in  which  Schelling  engaged,  was  the 
“ Neue  Zeitschrift  fiir  Speculative  Physik.”  In  this  we  have  the 
commencement  of  a new  elaboration  of  his  philosophy,  from  a 
somewhat  modified  point  of  view.  In  the  former  writings  he  had 
traced  all  things  in  nature  and  the  soul  up  to  the  absolute ; now  he 
sought  to  show  how  they  may  be  all  deduced  from  the  absolute. 
This  movement  of  his  philosophy  was  carried  on  in  the  work  enti- 
tled “ Bruno,”  and  completed  in  that  on  “ Philosophie  und  Religion.” 

Up  to  this  point,  Schelling  had  only  elaborated  the  negative  side 
of  his  philosophy;  he  had  explained  the  forms  and  ideas  of  things, 
but  had  not  reached  their  essence.  The  remaining  works,  there- 
fore, are  devoted  to  his  positive  philosophy ; that,  namely,  in  which 
he  shows  how  the  divine  essence  itself,  in  all  its  wondrous  work- 
ings, is  revealed  immediately  to  the  perception  of  the  human  mind. 
To  this  period  belong  his  “ Untersuchungen  iiber  das  Wesen  der 
Menschlichen  Freiheit,”  his  work  on  Mythology,  “ Ueber  die  Gott- 
heitender  Samothrace,”  his  Preface  to  Cousin’s  “ Fragments,”  with 
some  other  articles,  both  in  a journalistic  and  independent  form. 

Several  of  Schelling’s  minor  works  have  been  omitted  in  the 
above  sketch,  but  it  may  suffice  to  show  to  our  readers  the  course 
which  his  speculations  have  followed  from  first  to  last. 

On  entering  into  an  analysis  of  Schelling’s  system,  we  must  make 


436 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


a few  preliminary  remarks  upon  the  method  he  has  followed  in 
his  investigations.  With  him  the  great  organ  of  philosophy  is 
“intellectual  intuition,”  (intellectuelle  Anschauung,)  by  means  of 
which  faculty,  he  supposes,  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of 
the  absolute.  This  intellectual  intuition  is  a kind  of  higher  and 
spiritual  sense,  through  which  we  feel  the  presence  of  the  infinite 
both  within  and  around  us ; moreover,  it  affords  us  a species  of 
knowledge,  which  does  not  involve  the  relation  of  subject  and  ob- 
ject, but  enables  us  to  gaze  at  once  by  the  eye  of  the  mind  upon 
the  eternal  principle  itself,  from  which  both  proceed,  and  in  which 
thought  and  existence  are  absolutely  identical.  Before  the  time 
when  creation  began,  we  may  imagine  that  an  infinite  mind,  an 
infinite  essence,  or  an  infinite  thought  (for  here  all  these  are  one) 
filled  the  universe  of  space.  This,  then,  as  the  self-existent  One, 
must  be  the  only  absolute  reality : all  else  can  be  but  a developing 
of  the  one  original  and  eternal  being;  and  intellectual  intuition  is 
the  faculty,  by  which  we  rise  to  the  perception  of  this,  the  sole 
ground  and  realistic  basis  of  all  things.*' 

The  absolute,  from  the  first,  contains  in  itself,  potentially,  all  that 
it  afterwards  becomes  actually  by  means  of  its  own  self-develop- 
ment ; and  the  great  aim  of  true  philosophy  is,  fu'st,  to  fix  our  eye 
upon  this  original  essence,  and  then  to  show  how  everything  is  de- 
rived from  it — that  is,  how  from  the  absolute  subject,  or  nature 
naturans,  is  derived  the  absolute  object,  or  natura  naturata.  This 
primary  essence  is  not,  as  Spinoza  held,  an  infinite  substance, 
having  the  two  properties  of  extension  and  thought,  but  an  in- 
finite, acting,  producing,  self-unfolding  mind — the  living  soul  of  the 
world.  Unless  we  can  disentangle  ourselves  from  our  unreflective 
habits  of  thinking,  unless  we  can  look  through  the  veil  of  surround- 
ing phenomena,  unless  by  this  spiidtual  vision  we  can  realize  the 
presence  of  the  Infinite,  the  only  real  and  eternal  existence,  we 
have  not  the  capacity,  said  Schelling,  to  take  the  very  first  step  into 
the  region  of  speculative  philosophy. f 

If,  however,  we  can  view  all  things  as  the  development  of  the 

* On  the  organ  of  transcendental  philosophy,  see  “ System  des  Transcendentalen 
Idealismus.”  introduction,  sec.  4. 

f “ Erster  Entwurf  eines  Systems  der  Natur-philosophie,”  p.  215,  et  seq.  Here  the 
principle  of  organization  itself,  the  living  soul  of  nature,  is  described  with  great  clear- 
ness and  power,  as  a free  and  self-unfolding  mind — the  absolute  in  its  lower  potencies. 
See  also  the  treatise  “ Von  der  Welt-seele,”  introduction,  and  first  part.  “ Ich  nehme 
die  Materie,”  he  says,  “ weder  als  etwas  unabhangig  von  der  ahsoluten  Einheit  Vor- 
handenesan,  noch  auch  betrachte  Ich  sie  als  das  blosse  Nichts,  sondern  Icb  stimme  im 
Allgemeinen  mit  jenem  Aussprach  des  Spinoza  uberein,  der  antwortet. — Ich  haltc 
vielmehr  die  Materie  fur  ein  Attribut,  das  die  unendliche  und  ewige  Wesenheit  in  sich 
ausdrtickt.” 


THE  GERAIAN  SCHOOL. 


437 


original  and  absolute  principle  of  life,  reason,  or  being,  then  it  is 
evident,  conversely,  that  we  may  trace  the  marks  of  the  absolute 
in  everything  that  exists,  and  consequently  may  scan  them  in  the 
operations  of  our  own  minds,  as  one  particular  phase  of  its  mani- 
festation. Every  mind  is  the  image  or  reflection  of  the  eternal 
mind  ; every  individual  reason  the  exemplar  of  the  infinite  reason ; 
and,  therefore,  by  gazing  inwardly  upon  the  development  of  our 
own  minds,  we  may  learn  the  principle  or  process,  by  which  every- 
thing else  is  developed  likewise.* 

Now,  in  viewing  our  own  consciousness  for  this  purpose,  we  find 
that  there  is  combined  there  the  knowing  and  the  known — the  sub- 
ject which  perceives,  and  the  object  which  is  perceived.  But,  then 
what  is  the  process  by  which  every  such  perception  takes  place, 
what  the  law  of  the  mind’s  own  activity?  This,  observes  Schel- 
ling,  was  shown  by  Kant,  when  he  assigned  time  and  space  as  the 
two  forms  or  categories  of  sensation.  The  notion  of  space  arises 
from  the  mind’s  activity  going  forth,  and  expanding  itself  without 
limit,  and  in  every  direction;  on  the  other  hand,  time  is  that 
which  bounds  and  measures  space — it  is  the  reflex  or  attractive 
force,  by  which  our  activity  is  restrained,  and  which  answers, 
therefore,  to  Fichte’s  “unexplained  limitations.”  The  one  is  a 
positive  force,  the  other  a negative ; and  what  we  suppose  to  be  a 
material  existence  is  the  result  of  these  two  forces, — the  expansive 
giving  the  matter  of  it,  the  attractive  the  form.f 

Intellectual  intuition  sees  both  subject  and  object,  knowing  and 
known  combined  in  our  own  consciousness  ; it  regards  them  as 
being  but  the  twofold  law  by  which  the  soul  operates ; but  ordi- 
nary and  unphilosophical  thinking  views  them  as  entirely  separate, 
and  regards  the  one  movement,  that  in  which  thought  is  predomi- 
nant, as  the  subject,  and  the  other  movement,  that  in  which  ex- 
istence is  the  predominant  notion,  as  the  object,  thus  making  a 
generic  distinction,  which  does  not  really  exist,  between  the  mind 
within  and  the  world  without.  Both,  in  fact,  are  one  and  the  same 
essence  running  exactly  parallel  to  each  other;  so  that,  if  we 
begin  with  the  objective  side,  we  can  easily  deduce  from  it  the 
subjective ; and  if  we  begin  with  the  subjective,  we  can  as  easily 
deduce  the  objective.  Hence,  there  are  two  kinds  of  philosophy, 
philosophy  of  nature  and  philosophy  of  spirit,  both  having  their 

* Philosophische  Schriften.  Vom  Ich  als  Prinzip  der  Phil.  sec.  2.  Also  Transcend. 
Idealismus,  p.  63,  et  seq. 

f Von  der  Welt-seele.  Introduction,  liber  das  Verhaltniss  des  Realen  und  Idealen 
in  der  Natur. 


438 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


root  in  the  absolute,  and  both  affording  a firm  point  from  which 
we  can  take  our  departure.  The  office,  therefore,  of  philosophy 
is,  either  from  intelligence  to  construct  a nature,  or  from  nature  to 
construct  an  intelligence  ; thus  showing  that  thought  and  existence 
have  their  ground  in  the  same  identical  essence.* 

To  make  the  subsequent  part  of  our  sketch  more  intelligible,  we 
must  now  request  the  reader  to  fix  his  attention  closely  upon  the 
law,  or  rhythm,  by  which  the  absolute,  and  everything  else,  as  be- 
ing a manifestation  of  the  absolute,  proceeds  in  its  self-develop- 
ment. This  law  comprehends  three  movements,  which  Schelling 
terms  powers,  or  as  we  will  term  them,  for  distinction’s  sake,  po- 
tencies. The  first  is  the  reflective  movement  (Potenz  der  Reflex- 
ion) ; this  answers  to  the  negative  or  expansive  force,  and  viewed 
philosophically  is  the  attempt  of  the  Infinite  to  embody  or  repre- 
sent itself  in  the  Finite.  The  second  movement  is  that  of  sub- 
sumption (Potenz  der  Subsumption),  which  is  the  attempt  that  the 
absolute  makes,  having  embodied  itself  in  the  Finite,  to  return  to 
the  Infinite.  The  thii'd  movement  is  simply  the  union  or  indiffer- 
ence point  of  the  two  former,  which  Schelling  terms  the  potence 
of  reason  (Potenz  der  Vernunft,)  as  being  that  in  which  the  ex- 
pansive and  attractive,  the  subjective  and  objective  movements 
are  blended,  f 

Having  thus  prepared  the  way,  we  can  now  give  a regular  and 
connected  sketch  of  Schelling’s  “ Philosophy  of  Identity,”  as  it  was 
developed  in  his  earlier  writings. 

The  foundation-stone  upon  which  the  whole  rests  is  the  abso- 
lute and  infinite  existence  (Seyn),  which  forms  of  itself  the  whole 
real  essence  of  the  universe,  and  to  the  consciousness  of  which 
we  attain  by  means  of  intellectual  intuition.  This  infinite  Being, 
containing  everything  in  itself  potentially  which  it  can  afterwards 
become  actually,  strives  by  the  law  which  we  have  above  indi- 
cated after  self-development.  By  the  first  movement  (the  potence 
of  reflection)  it  embodies  its  own  infinite  attributes  in  the  Finite. 
In  doing  this,  it  produces  finite  objects,  i.  e.  Finite  reflections  of 

* “ If  all  knowledge  has  two  poles,  which  suppose  each  other,  and  require  each  other 
mutually;  these  two  poles  ought  to  be  looked  for  in  all  sciences.  There  ought  to  be, 
therefore,  two  fundamental  sciences ; and  in  starting  from  one  of  the  poles  it  is  impos- 
sible to  fail  of  the  other.  The  necessary  tendency,  therefore,  of  the  science  of  nature, 
is,  starting  from  nature  to  arrive  at  the  sphere  of  intelligence.  The  continued  efforts 
which  are  made  in  all  the  sciences  to  attach  the  phenomena  of  nature  to  a theory, 
reveal  this  tendency  in  a striking  manner.” — Syst.  des  Transcend.  Ideal.  Introd. 
Sec.  1. 

t A view  of  this  law  of  the  absolute  is  given  in  the  ” Ideen  zu  einer  Phil,  der  Natur, 
and  Erster  Entwurf;”  but  more  fully  in  the  “ Neue  Zeitschrift  fiir  Spec.  Phil.”  St.  II. 
p.  46,  &c. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


439 


itself,  and  thus  sees  itself  objectified  in  the  forms  and  productions 
of  the  material  world.  This  first  movement  then  gives  rise  to  the 
philosophy  of  nature.  The  second  movement  (potence  of  sub- 
sumption) is  the  regress  of  the  Finite  into  the  Infinite ; it  is  nature, 
as  above  constituted,  again  making  itself  absolute,  and  reassuming 
the  form  of  the  Eternal.  The  result  of  this  movement  is  mind, 
as  existing  in  man,  which  is  nothing  else  than  nature  gradually 
raised  to  a state  of  consciousness,  and  attempting  in  that  way  to 
return  to  its  infinite  form.  This  gives  rise  to  transcendental  ide- 
alism, the  philosophy  of  mind.  The  combination  of  these  two 
movements  (Potenz  der  Vernunft)  is  the  reunion  of  the  subject 
and  object  in  divine  reason ; it  is  God,  not  in  his  original  or  poten- 
tial, but  in  his  unfolded  and  realized  existence,  forming  the  whole 
universe  of  mind  and  Being.  This  is  the  proper  view  of  Schelling’s 
pantheism,  and  is  fully  unfolded  in  the  philosophy  of  the  absolute. 

Having  thus  seen  the  absolute  dividing  itself  into  object  and 
subject,  nature,  and  spirit,  by  the  original  laws  of  all  being,  we 
shall  go  onwards  with  these  two  branches  of  philosophy,  and  fol- 
low Schelling  step  by  step  in  the  construction  of  his  whole  system. 
That  system  all  turns  upon  the  law  or  rhythm  we  have  explained. 

Just  in  the  same  manner  as  we  perceived  three  potencies  in  the 
absolute  itself,  so  also  shall  we  find  three  potencies  in  each  of  the 
two  divisions  of  philosophy,  which  have  thus  oi’iginated,  namely, 
in  nature  and  in  mind.  These  three  potencies  will  again  form 
three  subordinate  spheres  of  being,  each  of  which  still  continues  to 
exhibit  the  same  law,  showing  two  opposite  movements  and  a point 
of  indifference  in  which  they  both  unite.  Schelling  terms  the 
movements  which  come  within  the  philosophy  of  nature  the  real 
side  of  the  question,  those  which  come  within  the  philosophy  of 
spirit  the  ideal,  both  absolutely  answering  to  each  other,  but  the 
one  in  the  lower  state  of  unconscious  existence,  the  other  in  the 
more  highly  developed  state  of  self-consciousness.  Nature  and 
spirit  are  thus  both  the  emanations  of  the  eternal  mind,  but  the 
one  in  a higher  potence  than  the  other.  To  make  the  matter  clear 
to  the  eye,  and  at  the  same  time  to  furnish  an  index  to  our  subse- 
quent explanation,  we  shall  here  give  the  outlines  of  the  whole 
system  in  the  following  scheme.* 

* It  should  be  observed  that  Schelling  has  not  given  any  synoptic  view  of  his  philos- 
ophy as  here  presented.  The  annexed  scheme  is  in  fact  constructed  from  a general 
view  of  all  his  works  combined,  and  comprehends  equally  the  Natur-philosophie  and 
the  Transcendentaler  Idealismus,  placing  them  together  so  as  to  form  an  organic 
whole.  For  the  general  idea  of  the  plan,  I am  indebted  to  the  work  of  J.  L.  Schwartz, 

Schelling’s  Alte  und  Neue  Philosophie.” 


440 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


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THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


441 


Now,  in  directing  our  attention  first  to  the  real  side  of  the  above 
plan,  the  development  of  which  gives  us  the  philosophy  of  nature, 
we  must  remember  that  external  nature,  according  to  Schelling, 
contains  the  absolute  essence  complete,  only  viewed  predominantly 
from  an  objective  point  of  view. 

First  sphere.  The  first  sphere,  that  of  matter  mechanically  con- 
sidered, is  the  streaming  forth  of  the  infinite  into  the  finite  ; it  is 
the  development  of  the  productive  power  of  nature  into  some 
actual  product ; the  union  of  the  infinite  essence  with  finite  form. 
Matter  is  the  production  of,  or  rather  emanation  from,  the  great 
eternal  mind ; it  is  strictly  speaking,  that  mind  itself  seen  in  its 
paimary  reflective  movement,  and  making  itself  finite  in  order  to 
become  the  object  of  its  own  happy  contemplation.  God  saw  all 
he  had  made — all  that  came  forth  from  himself,  the  type  of  his 
own  power  and  glory,  and  behold  it  was  very  good. 

Matter,  however,  as  being  a complete  exhibition  of  the  Absolute 
in  one  particular  aspect,  and  as  forming  a universe  in  itself,  must 
exhibit  all  the  three  potencies  above  indicated.  The  first  of  these 
is  repulsion,  or  the  expansive  power ; the  next  is  attraction,  or 
that  by  which  the  expansive  or  objective  tendency  is  limited,  and 
referred  back  to  the  centre  from  which  it  sprung.  Just  as  by  their 
centrifugal  force  the  planets  individualize  themselves  in  their  own 
separate  orbits,  and  by  their  centripetal  all  tend  back  to  one  centre, 
so  matter  in  general  by  repulsion  is  individualized,  and  by  attrac- 
tion tends  back  again  to  unity.  The  indifference  of  these  two 
forces  is  gravity,  that  which  makes  matter  what  it  is,  and  gives  it 
the  appearance  of  being  the  dull,  lifeless,  impenetrable  mass  which 
we  ordinarily  conceive  it  to  be  in  things  around  us.  The  first 
generic  potence,  then,  of  nature,  is  the  union  of  the  repulsive  and 
attractive  forces,  forming  the  whole  phenomena  of  the  material 
universe,  statically  considered.* 

Second  sphere.  This  being  the  reflective  movement  of  the  real 
side,  as  above  shown,  we  now  look  for  the  second  generic  potence, 
that  of  subsumption,  by  which  the  material  world  will  exhibit  a 

* “ Erster  Entwurf,”  Introduction,  p 57,  et  seq.  In  his  treatise,  “ Von  der  Welt- 
seele,”  p.  47,  Schelling  explains  his  theory  of  matter  thus.  “ The  heterogeneity  of 
matter  loses  itself  at  length  in  the  idea  of  an  original  homogeneity  of  all  the  positive 
principles  in  the  world.  Even  that  original  opposition,  which  appears  to  maintain  the 
dualism  of  nature,  vanishes  in  this  idea.  We  cannot  explain  the  chief  phenomena  of 
nature  without  such  a conflict  of  opposing  principles.  But  this  conflict  only  exists  in 
the  moment  of  appearing.  Each  power  of  nature  originates  that  which  is  opposed  to 
it.  This  does  not  exist  of  itself,  but  only  in  the  conflict,  and  it  is  simply  this  conflict 
which  gives  it  a momentary  separate  existence.  So  soon  as  the  conflict  ceases,  it  van- 
ishes, inasmuch  as  it  steps  back  into  the  sphere  of  universal  identity.’' 


442 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


regress  movement  back  from  its  finite  forms  towards  infinity. 
This  second  potence  is  the  principle  of  light.  Light  is  the  soul, 
of  which  matter  is  the  body  ; it  is  that  by  which  nature  gazes 
upon  itself.  Nature,  accordingly,  when  viewed  in  this  potence,  is 
no  longer  seen  as  dull  inert  matter,  but  as  replete  with  perpetual 
movement  and  activity.  This  dynamical  sphere  of  nature’s  ope- 
rations, has  likewise  three  movements.  The  first  is  magnetism,  in 
which  the  motive  power  is  seen,  by  means  of  polarity,  dividing 
itself  into  two  opposite  directions,  and  always  acting  in  a right 
line.  The  second  is  electricity,  which  shows  again  the  unity  of 
the  positive  and  negative  poles  of  the  magnet,  and  acts  over  sur- 
faces. The  third  is  the  chemical  process,  or  galvanism,  which  is 
the  combination  of  these  two  forces,  and  gives  the  third  dimension 
to  space.*  From  the  two  foregoing  spheres — that  of  matter,  and 
that  of  light — of  statics,  and  dynamics,  the  existence  of  the  three 
realms  of  nature  is  explained.  Hard  unyielding  matter  is  the 
kingdom  in  which  weight,  or  gravity,  is  predominant — that  in 
which  movement  predominates  is  the  air,  and  the  indifference  of 
these  is  water. 

Third  sphere.  Having  thus  seen  nature  in  its  first  potence,  as 
attraction  and  repulsion,  giving  rise  to  the  phenomena  of  mechan- 
ical matter  ; — having  seen  it  also  in  its  second,  or  dynamical  po- 
tence, taking  the  appearance  of  light,  in  the  forms  of  magnetism, 
electricity,  and  galvanism,  we  now  come  to  the  third  potence,  that 
in  which  the  two  former  are  perfectly  combined,  and  in  which  is 
shown  the  whole  working  of  the  Absolute  towards  its  great  end,  in 
a finite  form.  There  is  one  great  aim  after  self-development  in  all 
nature  ; but  as  in  the  real  or  objective  side  the  Absolute  is  seen 
individualized,  the  aim  of  nature  must  there  result  in  individual 
produetions,  each  of  which  is  a little  world  (a  microcosm)  in  itself. 
This  is  realized  in  organization,  or  life  ; in  which  matter  and  light, 
the  maternal  and  paternal  principle,  the  mechanical  and  dynamical 
potencies,  are  perfectly  combined.  Every  organization  is  the 
complete  representation  or  image  of  the  Absolute  in  a finite  form ; 
it  is  subject-object  exhibited  in  nature  ; and  constitutes  the  highest 
perfection  of  physical  existence.  The  three  movements  of  this 
sphere  are,  first,  reproduction — the  embodying  of  the  essential  life- 
principle  into  new  forms  ; secondly,  irritability — the  power  of  in- 

* Schelling’s  theory  of  the  Dynamical  principles  of  nature,  more  especially  the  method 
by  which  he  deduces  the  three  dimensions  of  space  from  magnetism,  electricity,  and 
galvanism  respectively,  is  best  seen  in  the  “ Zeitschrilt  fiir  Speculative  Physik,”  vol.  ii. 
part  2.  See  also  Schwartz,  p.  51,  ei  seq. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


443 


dependent  and  unimpelled  movement ; and  thirdly,  sensibility,  in 
which  the  reproductive  and  self-moving  principles  are  combined. 
Here  we  have  followed  nature  in  its  different  objective  spheres,  up 
to  its  highest  development ; sensibility  forming  the  point  in  which 
mere  organized  life  ends,  and  spiritual  life  begins.* 

In  giving  this  rapid  sketch  of  Schelling’s  philosophy  of  nature, 
we  have  concentrated  in  a few  pages  the  matter  of  some  two  or 
three  volumes.  To  show  how  the  different  processes  are  deduced 
one  from  the  other — how  in  the  first  sphere  the  principles  of  me- 
chanics are  developed ; how  in  the  second  the  phenomena  of 
chemical  agents  are  elucidated  ; how  in  the  third  the  progress  of 
organized  life  is  traced,  from  the  lowest  kind  of  plant,  through  all 
the  varieties  of  vegetable  and  animal  existence  to  the  very  highest 
organization,  would  take  more  space  than  can  be  here  allotted  to 
the  subject.  We  have  been  anxious  to  give  the  principles,  upon 
which  the  whole  system  proceeds,  as  clearly  as  possible,  and  must 
refer  the  student,  who  would  understand  it  more  fully,  to  the  works 
of  Schelling  himself,  or  to  the  numerous  analyses  which  exist  of 
his  philosophy  in  the  German  language. 

We  have  followed  nature,  then,  through  the  successive  poten- 
cies, in  which  it  appears  as  matter,  light,^life.  All  these  uncon- 
scious productions  are  but  unsuccessful  attempts  in  nature  to  raise 
itself  to  intelligence  ; they  are  exhibitions  of  mind,  as  yet  in  a state 
of  slumber  ; and  when  at  length  we  get  beyond  them  into  a higher 
potence,  and  pass  from  philosophy  of  nature  into  philosophy  of 
mind,  we  have  to  do  precisely  with  the  same  essence,  only  in  an- 
other form ; and  to  view  precisely  the  same  processes,  only  raised 
to  the  loftier  position  of  self-consciousness. 

Leaving,  then,  the  real  or  objective  side  of  philosophy,  we  pass 
on  to  the  ideal  or  subjective  department — that  to  which  the  name 
of  transcendental  idealism  has  been  appended.  This  woi’k  of 
Schelling  answers  very  closely  to  Fichte’s  “ Wissenschaftslehre.” 
Like  Fichte,  he  begins  by  searching  after  an  absolute  principle  of 
knowledge,  and  finds  it  in  the  same  formula  A = A.f  Like  Fichte, 
he  divides  the  whole  investigation  into  the  theoretical  and  the 
practical  aspects  of  the  question.  Like  Fichte,  he  proceeds  by 
merging  the  contradictions  which  the  objective  and  subjective 
views  originate,  in  higher  and  more  universal  pi’inciples,  until  the 

* Schelling’s  theory  of  organized  matter  is  expounded  in  various  of  his  works — c.  g. 
“ Erster  Entwurf,”  Introduction;  “ Zeitschrift  fur  Spec.  Phys.”  vol.  ii.  part  2;  “Von 
der  Welt-seele “ TJeber  den  Ursprung  des  allgemeinen  Organismus,’’  p.  179,  &c. 

■j"  Transcend.  Ideal  Part  I.  sec.  I. 


444 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


whole  is  reduced,  not  as  with  Fichte,  to  the'" absolute  spontaneity 
of  the  me,  but  to  the  absolute  spontaneity  of  the  universal  soul.* 
What  has  before  appeared  under  the  form  of  contraction  and  ex- 
jiansion — of  time  and  space — now  appears  under  the  subjective 
type  of  subject  and  object ; the  two  opposite  elements  out  of  which 
all  our  knowledge  is  generated. f We  proceed,  therefore,  with 
the  development  ol  our  scheme,  as  shown  on  the  ideal  side  of  the 
philosophy  of  identity. 

Mind,  as  we  said,  is  the  second  movement  of  the  universal  law 
by  which  the  absolute  unfolds  itself ; it  is  nature  returning  from 
the  Finite,  in  which  it  had  embodied  itself,  back  again  to  the 
Infinite ; and  just  as  we  saw,  that  on  the  real  side  there  were  three 
movements  of  objective  nature,  so,  on  the  ideal  side,  we  find  an- 
swering to  them  three  movements  of  subjective  mind.  The  first 
sphere  is  that  of  knowledge,  and  this  corresponds  to  matter  in  the 
objective  side,  inasmuch  as  the  laws  of  perception  and  of  thought, 
exactly  answer  to  the  real  productions  of  nature,  as  was  already 
shown  to  some  extent  by  Kant,  and  more  clearly  by  Ficbte.  The 
second  sphere  corresponding  to  the  dynamics  of  nature,  is  that  of 
practice,  or  mind  in  its  free  activity.  And,  lastly,  the  third  sphere 
in  which  knowledge  a#id  practice  are  combined,  is  that  of  art, 
which  exactly  answers  to  the  organic  power  of  nature.  This 
affords  us  three  divisions  in  the  science  of  mind, — the  philosophy 
of  intelligence,  philosophy  of  practice,  and  philosophy  of  art ; the 
contents  of  which  we  shall  now  portrayj. 

First  sphere.  The  philosophy  of  intelligence,  being  the  first  or 
theoretical  sphere  of  the  subjective  development  of  the  Absolute, 
must  bear  upon  it  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  first  potence, 
namely,  the  embodying  of  the  infinite  in  the  finite.  In  other  words, 
mind,  (or  the  me,)  in  coming  to  the  distinct  knowledge  of  anything, 
must  have  its  free  activity  limited,  and  this  limitation,  (or  obstacle, 
as  Fichte  termed  it,)  which  gives  us  the  idea  of  an  actual  objec- 
tive product,  is  the  infinite  activity  of  the  subject  in  the  process  of 
constituting  itself  finite. 

In  this  sphere,  again,  we  shall  have  three  movements  as  before. 
The  first  is  sensation,  in  which  the  mind’s  activity  gives  rise  to  a 
distinct  image,  that  is  placed  before  it  as  object  of  its  own  contem- 
plation. The  second  movement  is  refection,  in  which  the  mind  is 
no  longer  sunk  in  the  contemplation  of  its  own  production  objec- 


* Transcend.  Ideal.  Part  vi.  General  Observations. 
:j:  Transcend.  Ideal.  Introd,  sec.  3. 


f Ibid.  Introd.  sec.  2. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


445 


lively  viewed,  but  becomes  aware  of  the  process  by  v.’hich  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  moment  is  produced.  The  result  of  this  self-con- 
scious process  is  called  a Notion  (Begriff),  and  the  process  itself  is 
termed  Judgment  (Urtheil).  Judgment  is  the  reference  of  a par- 
ticular to  a general  (as  we  see,  e.  g.  in  the  proposition,  horse  is  an 
animal;)  and  in  it,  therefore,  the  finite  perception,  which  we  at- 
tained to  in  sensation,  is  canned  back  again  to  the  infinite  essence 
(the  category)  to  which  it  belongs.  The  union  of  sensation  and 
reflection  gives  rise  to  freedom,  which  is  the  third  movement ; for 
by  means  of  reflection,  we  become  conscious  that  sensations,  though 
apparently  constrained,  are  the  products  of  our  own  activity.* 
Second  sphere.  The  idea  of  freedom  brings  us  to  the  second 
sphere  of  the  subjective  side,  namely,  the  philosophy  of  practice. 
Under  the  former  sphere  we  have  the  analysis  of  the  intellectual 
powers,  under  this  the  principles  of  action  ; and,  as  in  knowledge, 
the  me  was  seen  to  be  limited,  throwing  itself  into  a finite  product, 
so  now  in  action  it  essays  to  rise  again  to  the  Infinite  ; for  in  all 
moral  action  Deity  itself,  in  its  essential  qualities,  is  manifested. 
Knowledge  shows  the  essence  of  the  A.bsolute  expressed  in  a form; 
action  shows  the  form  again  returning  to  the  essence.  In  practi- 
cal philosophy,  as  in  all  the  other  spheres,  we  still  have  thi’ee  move- 
ments. The  first  is,  that  in  which  the  active  intelligence  shows 
itself  operating  within  a limited  circuit,  as  in  a single  mind.  This 
is  the  principle  of  individuality ; not  as  though  the  infinite  intelli- 
gence were  something  different  from  the  finite,  or  as  though  there 
were  an  infinite  intelligence  out  of  and  apart  from  the  finite,  but  it 
is  merely  the  absolute  in  one  of  its  particular  moments  ; just  as  an 
individual  thought  is  but  a single  moment  of  the  whole  mind.  Each 
finite  reason,  then,  is  but  a thought  of  the  infinite  and  eternal  rea- 
son. Under  this  head  of  individuality,  Schelling  explains  all  the 
phenomena  connected  with  volition  and  personality,  deducing  the 
nature  of  the  passions,  impulses,  and  moral  feelings,  all  of  which 
appear  before  us  as  springs  to  our  individual  action. f 

The  second  movement  in  this  sphere,  is  that  in  which  the  individu- 
alized action  of  the  absolute  seeks  to  generalize  itself ; in  which  man 
no  longer  acts  alone  as  an  individual,  but,  in  combination  with  other 
men,  forming  a state.  Hence  arises  the  philosophy  of  jurisprudence 
and  political  economy.  Now,  as  men,  when  acting  individually, 

♦ Transcerul.  Ideal.  Part  iii.,  in  which  the  successive  steps  of  theoretical  intelligence 
are  developed  at  length,  in  the  order  above  indicated. 

f Transcend.  Ideal.  Part  iv.  prop.  1 and  2,  in  which  the  spontaneity  of  The-Me  is 
exhibited  as  the  principle  of  human  freedom. 


446 


MODERN  I’lIILOSOPIlY. 


act  under  the  influence  of  freedom,  so  in  their  political  combina- 
tions they  act  from  necessity.  A country  is  urged  forward  in  its 
progress  towards  civilization,  not  by  any  distinct  volitions  of  its 
own,  but  by  a necessary  law  of  development.  Every  nation  plays 
its  part  in  the  drama  of  the  world,  and  every  one  performs  its 
proper  mission,  but  it  marches  on  to  its  destiny,  not  with  design, 
but  by  some  unknown  yet  necessary  cause.* 

This  leads  us,  accordingly,  to  the  thii'd  movement,  in  which  free- 
dom and  necessity  are  completely  blended,  and  that  is  history. 
History  is  the  absolute  combination  of  the  freedom  of  the  indi- 
vidual with  the  necessary  development  of  the  race.  Every  act  of 
which  history  is  composed  is  a free  act ; and  yet  man,  with  all  his 
freedom,  cannot  help  contributing  to  the  accomplishment  of  the 
destiny  of  the  whole  nation  and  the  whole  race  to  which  he  belongs. 
History  is  thus  the  great  mirror,  from  which  the  soul  of  the  world 
is  reflected  ; it  is  an  ever  unfolding  epic  of  the  Divine  intelligence  ; 
and  in  it  we  see  how  the  eternal  mind,  which  operates  in  us  all, 
reveals  itself  successively  to  view  through  the  medium  of  our  indi- 
vidual freedom. 

In  history  Schelling  lays  down  three  great  periods.  The  first 
was  the  period  of  fate,  when  everything  appeared  absolutely  under 
the  influence  of  a blind  and  irresistible  power.  This  may  be 
termed  the  tragic  age.  The  second  period  is  that  in  which  the 
power  of  fate  reveals  itself  as  a law  of  nature,  that  coerces  every- 
thing into  a certain  plan  of  development,  which  it  is  compelled  to 
subserve.  This  period  commences  with  the  extension  of  the  Ro- 
man empire,  from  which  age  we  can  trace  the  elements  that  have 
moulded  our  modern  history  down  to  the  present  time.  The  third 
period  will  be  that  in  w'hich  we  no  longer  speak  of  fate,  nor  of  the 
laws  of  nature,  but  where  we  view  the  whole  as  a divine  revelation 
upon  the  theatre  of  the  world.  This  will  be  the  age  of  Provi- 
dence.* 

Third  sphere.  Having  now  considered  the  tw'o  former  poten- 
cies of  the  subjective  development  of  the  absolute  ; having  seen  it 
first  in  the  sphere  of  knowledge,  causing  its  activity  to  assume  the 
appearance  of  an  image  or  notion,  its  essence  to  clothe  itself  in  a 
finite  form  ; having  seen  it,  secondly,  in  the  sphere  of  practice,  re- 
turning to  its  original  mode  of  existence  as  a boundless  activity  or 
absolute  law ; we  now  come  to  the  highest  potence  of  mental  ex- 

* Ibid.  Part  iv.  prop.  4,  in  which  it  is  shown  how  in  the  state  the  human  will  be- 
comes objective  to  itself. 

t Transcend.  Ideal.  Part  iv.  prop.  4.  sol.  3. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


447 


istence,  that  of  genius,  as  seen  in  the  production  of  art.  In  this 
we  find  the  complete  concentration  of  all  that  has  gone  before, 
whether  in  the  real  or  the  ideal  side  of  our  philosophy. 

Art,  as  the  union  of  the  two  former  spheres  of  the  ideal  philos- 
ophy, must  contain  in  it  a blending  together  both  of  knowledge 
and  of  action,  of  form  and  of  essence ; and  this  is  precisely  its 
great  characteristic.  Theory  and  practice  are  there  completely 
united.  Freedom  and  necessity,  which  we  saw  working  in  the 
other  spheres  separately,  in  this  higher  sphere  work  together ; for 
the  artist  is  impelled  by  an  inward  inspiration  to  his  labor.  More- 
over, art  being  the  highest  point  of  the  actual  development  of  the 
absolute,  as  it  rises  from  the  lowest  forms  of  matter  to  the  highest 
intelligence,  must  unite  in  itself  both  the  subjective  and  the  objec- 
tive ; and  what,  in  fact,  are  the  productions  of  genius  but  the  em- 
bodying our  ideal  creations  into  actual  objective  forms  ? Again, 
art  must  show  the  features  both  of  the  finite  and  the  infinite ; and 
accordingly,  infinite  perfection,  the  beau-ideal  of  beauty  and  sub- 
limity, is  shadowed  forth  by  the  artist  in  his  own  finite  productions. 
Lastly,  as  nature  and  mind  show  the  two  characteristics,  the  one 
of  unconsciousness,  the  other  of  self-consciousness,  so  the  inspira- 
tions of  genius  are  partly  conscious  and  partly  spontaneous.  And 
thus  the  infinite  mind  having  passed  through  its  various  forms  of 
objective  and  unconscious  development,  as  seen  in  matter,  light, 
and  organization,  attains  to  its  state  of  self-consciousness  in  sensa- 
tion, reflection,  and  freedom,  and  is  carried  by  the  practical  move- 
ment to  the  highest  point  of  self-realization,  where  by  means  of  art 
its  subjective  or  ideal  forms  become  objectified.  Here,  then,  we 
have  the  unity  or  indifference  of  the  real  and  the  ideal,  and  come, 
at  length,  at  the  end  of  the  process,  to  a self-produced,  or  rather  a 
self-developed,  subject-object.* 

Having  completed  the  two  poles  of  his  Identitatslehre,  Schelling 
next  proposed  to  show  the  indifference  point  itself;  that  is,  to  fur- 
nish the  philosophy  of  the  absolute  b)"  an  analysis  of  the  pure 
reason.  This  was  commenced,  as  we  before  remarked,  in  the 
“ Zeitschrift  fur  Speculative  Physik,”  but  not  completed.  The 
Hegelians  assert  that  it  could  not  be  completed  on  Schelling’s 
principles,  but  that  the  subjective  and  objective  philosophies  re- 
spectively of  Fichte  and  Schelling,  are  united  and  integrated,  only 
by  the  dialectic  process  of  Hegel. 

♦ Trans.  Ideal.  Pt.  vi.  In  this  last  part  the  principles  of  Transcendental  Idealism  are 
bronght  up  to  their  highest  point  of  development.  All  the  rays  of  Schelling’s  philosophy 
meet  in  the  idea  of  genius  as  in  a focus.  This  it  is  which  links  the  human  to  the  Divine. 


448 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


The  above  sketch,  however  brief  and  imperfect,  may  perhaps 
sufiice  to  give  an  idea  of  the  general  character  of  Schelling’s  orig- 
inal philosophy.  The  sensation  it  produced  was  manifest  through- 
out Germany,  and  many  of  the  rising  philosophers  of  the  day 
entered  eagerly  into  a system  at  once  so  comprehensive  and  so 
poetical.  Many  of  Schelling’s  pupils  aided  him  in  the  journal  which 
he  published  as  the  organ  of  his  views,  and  some  of  them  exerted 
a reflex  influence  upon  the  master  himself,  leading  him  to  recast 
some  of  his  opinions  and  to  expand  others.  By  the  time  his  system 
as  above  described  was  completed,  Schelling  began  to  perceive  that 
he  had  elaborated  too  much  the  objective  points  in  his  philosophy  ; 
and  that  in  the  intense  view  which  he  had  taken  of  the  absolute, 
he  had  diminished,  naj%  almost  lost  sight  of  the  notion  of  any  finite 
existence  possessing  freedom  and  personality.  With  him  the  ab- 
solute essence  had  become  everything ; and  its  development  was 
not  the  free  and  designed  operation  of  intelligence,  but  rather  a 
blind  impulse  working,  first  unconsciously  in  nature,  and  only 
coming  to  self-consciousness  in  mind.  On  this  principle,  all  differ- 
ence between  God  and  the  universe  was  entirely  lost ; his  pan- 
theism became  as  complete  as  that  of  Spinoza ; and  as  the  absolute 
was  evolved  from  its  lowest  forms  to  the  highest,  in  accordance 
with  the  necessary  law  or  rhythm  of  its  being,  the  whole  world, 
material  and  mental,  became  one  enormous  chain  of  necessity,  to 
which  no  idea  of  free  creation  could  by  any  possibility  be  attached. 

Accordingly  he  now  began  to  enter  upon  another  course  of 
philosophy,  not  intended  to  contradict  the  former,  but  rather  to 
perfect  it,  by  placing  the  whole  question  in  a new  light.  Many 
different  treatises  were  published  by  him  one  after  the  other,  before 
he  appeared  to  have  written  himself  clear  as  to  what  his  real  design 
was ; but  at  length  he  came  forth  with  the  declaration,  that  there 
are  two  kinds  of  philosophy,  the  positive  and  the  negative ; that  he 
had  supplied  the  negative  side,  in  his  original  system ; and  that  he 
was  now  about  to  complete  it,  by  supplying  the  positive.  The  dif- 
ference between  the  two,  according  to  Schelling,  consists  in  this, 
that  while  the  negative  philosophy  deduces  the  idea  (Begriff)  of 
God  as  an  idea,  the  positive  supplies  his  real  essential  existence. 
The  positive  philosophy  starts  from  being,  and  comes  to  tliought ; 
the  negative  starts  from  thought,  and  seeks  (though  in  vain)  to 
attain  to  existence.* 

* The  first  distinct  statement  of  this  new  stand-point  is  found  in  the  “ .Talirbiicher  der 
Medicin,”  vol.  i.  part  i.  The  precise  reason  why  the  terras  positive  and  negative  are  ap- 
plied to  the  two  aspects  of  his  system,  it  is  not  very  easy  to  determine.  The  prevailing 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


449 


God,  the  object  of  all  philosophy,  stands  to  us  in  two  points  of 
view.  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  the  abstract  idea  of  him,  i.  e.  the 
notion  of  his  attributes,  or  of  what  he  is  ; on  the  other  hand,  there 
is  his  being  or  existence,  embodying  the  tnith  that  he  is.  The 
negative  philosophy  begins  with  a low  and  crude  idea  of  the  abso- 
lute, and  evolves  from  it  a higher ; in  this  way  it  proceeds  step  by 
step  through  all  the  realms  of  nature  and  spirit,  until  it  attains  the 
highest  notion  which  we  can  have  of  Deity ; but  when  it  has  done 
all  this,  it  is  only  the  notion  of  God  we  have  deduced,  and  not  the 
existence.  The  positive  philosophy,  then,  adds  to  this  idea  of  God 
his  real  existence  ; much  in  the  same  way  as  in  Kant’s  system  we 
saw  that  his  theoretical  philosophy  attained  a notion  of  God  which 
appeared  simply  as  a personification  of  our  own  faculties,  while  his 
practical  philosophy,  on  the  other  hand,  supplied  the  essential 
reality.* 

The  chief  objects,  then,  of  this  new  or  positive  philosophy  may 
be  stated  as  follows  : — 1st.  To  raise  us  beyond  the  pantheistic  view, 
given  in  the  former  system,  and  exhibit  the  Deity  as  a free  personal 
supra-mundane  being.  2dly.  To  show  the  necessity  and  the  pro- 
cess of  the  creation  of  the  world  out  of  God.  3dly.  To  explain  the 
relation  of  man  to  God,  as  an  independent  and  yet  dependent  be- 
ing. 4thly,  and  lastly.  To  unfold  the  nature  and  possibility  of  moral 
evil.  Let  us  view  these  four  points  in  succession. 

1.  In  order  to  rise  above  the  pantheistic  point  of  view',  we  must 
distinguish  between  the  Absolute,  as  ground  of  all  things,  and  God- 
head, as  one  particular  manifestation  of  it.  The  primary  form  of 
the  Absolute  is  will  or  self-action.  It  is  an  absolute  power  of  be- 
coming in  reality  what  it  is  in  the  germ.  The  second  form  in  which 
it  appears  is  that  of  being ; i.  e.  the  realization  of  what  its  will  or 
power  indicated  to  be  possible.  But  as  yet  there  is  no  personality, 
no  Deity  properly  so  called.  For  this  we  must  add  the  further  idea 
of  freedom,  which  is  the  power  that  the  Absolute  possesses  of  remain- 
ing either  in  its  first  or  its  second  potence,  as  above  stated.  In  this 
unity,  which  contains  the  three  ideas  of  action,  of  existence,  and  of 
freedom,  consists  the  proper  idea  of  God.  God,  before  the  exist- 

idea,  however,  seems  to  be  that  in  the  negative  philosophy,  he  started  (as  Fitche  did) 
from  an  absolute  and  rational  principle  of  science,  and  thus  evolved  only  the  order  of 
ideas : in  the  positive,  on  the  contrary,  he  begins  with  the  direct  intuition  of  Deity,  as 
matter  of  inward  experience,  and  thus  gets  into  the  sphere  of  reality. — Consult  Preface 
to  Cousin’s  Fragments,  on  the  method  of  philosophy. 

* This  theosophic  view  Schelling  derived  in  great  measure  from  Jacob  Bohme.  “ Ich 
schame  mich,”  ne  remarks,  “ des  Namens  vieler  sogenannter  Schwarmer  nicht,  sond- 

ern  will  ihn  noch  laut  bekennen,  und  mich  ruhmen  von  ihnen  gelemt  zu  haben." 

“ Darlegung  des  Wahren  Verhalt.”  p.  156. 

29 


450 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


once  of  the  world,  is  the  undeveloped,  impersonal,  absolute  essence 
from  which  all  things  proceed ; it  is  only  after  this  essence  is  de- 
veloped, and  has  passed  successively  into  the  three  states  respec- 
tively of  action,  of  objective  existence,  and  of  freedom,  that  he 
attains  personality,  and  answers  to  the  proper  notion  of  Deity.* 

2.  With  regard  to  creation,  we  can  now  explain  the  existence 
of  the  world  without  identifying  it  with  Deity,  as  is  done  in  the  or- 
dinary pantheistic  hypothesis.  The  absolute  is  the  real  ground  of 
all  things  that  exist,  but  the  absolute  is  not  yet  Deity.  That  ele- 
ment in  it,  which  passes  into  the  creation  and  constitutes  its  es- 
sence, is  not  the  whole  essence  of  Deity ; it  is  not  that  part  of  it 
which,  peculiarly  speaking,  makes  it  divine.  The  material  world, 
then,  is  simply  one  form  or  potence  in  which  the  absolute  chooses 
to  exist ; in  which  it  freely  determines  to  objectify  itself,  and  con- 
sequently is  only  one  step  towards  the  realization  of  the  full  con 
ception  of  Deity,  as  a Divine  Person,  f 

3.  Man  is  the  summit  of  the  creation — he  is  that  part  of  it  in 
which  the  absolute  sees  himself  most  fully  portrayed  as  the  perfect 
image  or  type  of  the  infinite  reason.  In  him,  objective  creation 
has  taken  the  form  of  subjectivity ; and  hence  he  is  said,  in  contra- 
distinction to  everything  else,  to  have  been  formed  in  the  image  of 
God. 

Lastly.  To  solve  the  problem  of  moral  evil,  we  must  keep  in 
mind,  that  man,  though  grounded  in  the  absolute,  still  is  not  identi- 
fied with  Deity  ; since  the  Divine  element,  namely,  the  unity  of  the 
three  potencies  of  the  original  essence,  is  wanting  to  him.  Still, 
man  bears  a perfect  resemblance  to  God,  and  therefore  must  be 
free,  and  fully  capable  of  acting,  if  he  choose,  against  his  own  des- 
tiny. This  actually  took  place,  inasmuch  as  he  attempted,  like 
God,  to  create,  separating  the  three  potencies  which  were  shadowed 
forth  in  him  as  the  image  of  Deity,  and  not  being  able,  in  doing  so, 
to  retain  their  unity.  Hence  the  will  of  man  was  removed  from 
the  centre  of  the  Divine  will,  attempted  to  act  independently,  and 

♦ The  theosophic  view  of  the  Divine  nature  as  given  by  Schelling,  is  confessedly  ob- 
scure. In  his  “ Denkmal  der  Schrift  von  den  gbttlichen  Dingen,”  he  discusses  the 
question  at  issue  between  himself  and  Jacobi;  and  seeks  to  vindicate  himself  from  the 
charge  of  pantheism.  So  also  in  the  Preface  to  Cousin,  he  combats  the  notion,  that 
Deity  is  synonymous  with  pure  being,  as  involving  a pantheistic  result ; and  shows  the 
chief  merit  of  his  philosophy  to  arise  from  the  fact  of  its  having  established  the  idea  of 
a progressive  development  in  the  Absolute,  from  pure  being  up  to  personality. — Pre- 
face, part  iii. 

f This  theosophic  view  of  nature  is  given  at  large  in  the  “ Jahrbiicher  der  Medicin.” 
The  student  of  Schelling,  however,  may  see  the  whole  of  what  is  essential  in  the  mat- 
ter, in  the  small  polemical  brochure,  entitled,  “ Darlegung  des  wahren  Verhiialtnisses 
der  Natur-pholosophie  zu  der  verbesserten  Fichtischen  Lenre.”  (1806.) 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


451 


brought  confusion  and  moral  obliquity  into  his  nature.  Man  would 
become  like  a God,  and  by  attempting  to  do  so,  he  lost  the  very 
image  of  God  which  he  did  possess.*  * 

The  last  attempts  which  Schelling  has  made  in  philosophy  have 
been  almost  entirely  of  a theosophic,  and,  consequently,  mystica  I 
nature.  These  may  all  be  included  under  the  title,  “ Philosophy  of 
Revelation,”  in  which  he  attempts  to  explain  the  rationale  of  all 
mythology,  and  to  deduce  scientifically  the  whole  doctrine  of  the 
Bible  concerning  the  fall  of  man,  and  his  redemption  by  Christ.  In 
this  portion  of  his  philosophy,  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  is  ex- 
plained, on  the  principle  of  the  three  divine  potencies,  which  have 
been  so  often  employed  before : the  fall  of  man  is  interpreted  as 
being  the  disuniting  of  the  human  will  as  the  type,  from  the  Divine 
will  as  the  antitype  ; while  the  doctrine  of  redemption  is  viewed  as 
the  reunion  of  that  will  to  God.  The  first  Adam,  the  original  type 
of  humanity,  separated  from  God,  and  acted  during  the  ages  of  this 
resisted  evil  as  the  god  of  this  world,  striving  after  an  independent 
and  extra- Divine  existence.  The  second  Adam,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  type  of  the  new  creation,  exhibited  the  return  of  man  to  a per- 
fect union  with  the  Divine  nature. f 

On  this  principle  is  explained  the  whole  religious  history  of  the 
world ; that  history  showing,  like  everything  else,  three  different 
phases.  From  the  fall  of  man  to  the  coming  of  Christ,  the  human 
consciousness  was  given  up  to  the  influence  of  the  powers  of 
nature,  being  separated  from  God  and  devoted  to  sense.  Hence 
the  rise  of  Polytheism,  and  the  existence  of  heathen  mythology 
generally.  Gradually  the  identity  of  these  powers  with  God  be- 
gan to  break  in  upon  the  mind,  and  gave  the  first  notion  of  mono- 
theism, which  was  completed  in  Christ,  the  God-Man.  Christ 
represented  the  complete  reunion  of  man  to  God,  the  return  of 
the  finite  revolted  will  to  the  infinite — a return  which  is  shadowed 
forth  by  his  perfect  obedience.  But  man  is  not  raised  at  once  to 
perfect  reunion  to  God  ; and  hence  the  dispensation  of  the  Spirit, 


* The  doctrine  of  human  freedom,  the  nature  of  good  and  evil,  and  the  ground  of  the 
existence  of  the  latter,  are  discussed  at  some  length  in  a tractate  at  the  end  of  his 
“ Phdosophische  Schriften,’’  entitled  “ Philosophische  Untersuchungen  iiber  das  Wesen 
der  menschlichen  Freiheit.” 

f Schelling’s  views  on  the  philosophy  of  revelation  are  only  known  in  their  more 
matured  form,  as  delivered  in  the  lecture  room.  Some  idea  of  them,  however,  may  be 
gained  from  his  “ Philosophie  und  Religion,”  and  also  from  the  “ Lectures  on  the 
methods  of  Academical  Study.”  The  eighth  lecture  is  on  the  Historical  Construction 
of  Christianity,  where  a general  view  is  afforded  of  the  manner  in  which  he  under- 
stands the  nature  of  the  Christian  doctrines. 


452 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


as  that  in  which  the  reunion  is  completed  by  the  constant  impulse 
of  a Divine  power.* 

H Even  in  the  development  of  Christianity  itself,  Schelling  finds 
the  same  threefold  movement  which  runs  so  universally  through 
his  whole  system.  The  first  movement  is  seen  in  the  Catholic 
Church,  the  religion  of  Peter,  objective  in  its  whole  aspect ; the 
second  in  Protestantism,  the  religion  of  Paul,  appealing  to  man’s 
subjective  consciousness ; the  third  is  the  religion  of  John — the 
union  ot  both  in  love.  The  first  and  second  are  now  passing 
away,  and  the  next  great  form  of  Christianity  will  be  that  in 
which  love  will  conquer  all  in  the  perfect  union  of  the  objective  re- 
ligion of  the  Catholic,  with  the  subjective  piety  of  the  Protestant.f 
It  is  now  easy  to  see  the  vast  comprehensiveness  of  Schelling’s 
philosophy  as  a whole.  It  begins  by  advocating  a kind  of  Divine 
intuition,  by  which  we  gaze  upon  the  realistic  ground  or  basis  of 
all  the  phenomena,  both  of  mind  and  matter.  From  this  it  goes 
on  to  construct,  by  means  of  an  absolute  and  a priori  law,  the 
whole  phenomenal  universe,  deriving  it  from  the  self-unfolding  of 
the  Absolute.  One  region  of  existence  after  another  yields,  as  by 
a magic  spell,  to  the  bidding  of  this  law,  and  confesses  its  secret 
unveiled.  Matter,  with  all  its  dull  inertia,  puts  on  the  garb  of 
contending  powers,  and  shows  itself  to  be  the  objective  reflection 
of  the  Absolute  itself ; those  subtle  agencies  which  we  term  mag- 
netism, electricity,  galvanism,  light,  and  heat,  each  owns  itself  to 
be  but  one  pulsation  in  the  self-developing  process  of  the  universal 
mind  ; and  even  the  phenomena  of  organized  life  are  still  but  the 
complete  objectifying  of  the  absolute,  each  animal  nature  being  a 
perfected  type  of  the  eternal  nature  itself.  From  the  philosophy 
of  nature,  Schelling  passes  in  one  unbroken  chain  of  argument, 
without  a chasm  between,  to  the  philosophy  of  spirit.  The  same 
great  law  of  the  absolute  solves  the  mysteries  of  sensation,  of  in- 
telligence, and  of  human  freedom  ; from  thence  it  proceeds  to  ex- 
plain the  phenomena  of  man  as  an  individual  agent ; of  man  in 
his  connection  with  society ; and,  lastly,  of  man  as  he  has  devel- 
oped his  being  upon  the  broad  page  of  history.  Finally,  it  enters 
into  the  mazy  regions  of  human  genius  and  art,  and  finds  in  them 

* This  historical  view  of  mankind  from  the  religious  stand-point  is  given  in  the  trac- 
tate “ Ueber  die  Gottheiten  der  Samothrace.” 

f In  1841,  Schelling  opened  his  lectures  at  Berlin,  and  excited  the  hope  that  the  long 
expected  completion  of  his  Philosophy  would  be  accomplished.  His  speedy  retirement, 
however,  rendered  this  hope  delusive.  The  only  thing  that  has  come  from  his  pen 
since  that  time  is  a preface  to  the  posthumous  works  of  Steffens.  (1846.)  This,  how- 
ever, is  almost  entirely  occupied  with  remarks  upon  the  religious  aspect  of  the  times, 
and  the  “ church  of  the  future.” 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


453 


the  crown  and  the  summit  of  the  whole  process — the  highest  ex- 
pression of  the  Deity  in  the  world. 

Here  it  might  be  supposed,  that  the  author  would  have  found 
his  goal,  and  having  constructed  the  universe  out  of  almost  nothing, 
have  at  length  enjoyed  his  Sabbath  in  peace.  But,  instead  of  this, 
we  find  that  the  work  is  only  half-done ; he  has  developed  the  law 
of  the  universe,  but  not  explained  the  substance ; he  has  exhibited 
the  form,  now  he  must  go  to  the  matter ; he  has  analyzed  the  full 
idea  of  God,  and  now  he  must  make  manifest  his  existence.  Upon 
this,  with  unwearied  wings,  he  begins  another  flight — pantheism 
is  left  behind,  and  the  real  Triune  Jehovah  is  placed  before  us  in 
all  the  plenitude  of  a Divine  personality.  Next,  the  whole  nature 
of  the  dependent  creation  is  developed,  the  procedure  of  the  ma- 
terial universe  from  the  absolute  expounded,  and  the  mysteries  of 
existence,  which  had  been  hidden  before  in  thick  darkness,  made 
irradiant  with  light  and  intelligence.  The  destiny  of  man  then 
comes  upon  the  stage.  To  show  this,  we  have  the  origin  of  moral 
evil  discussed  ; and  the  question,  so  long  tossed  upon  the  billows 
of  controversy,  forever  set  at  rest.  The  door  being  thus  open  into 
the  region  of  Christian  theology,  the  philosopher  boldly  enters  in, 
to  grapple  with  the  great  ideas  which  we  there  met  with.  The 
law,  which  has  unveiled  the  mysteries  of  nature  and  the  soul,  we 
may  be  sure  does  not  fail  in  explaining  the  whole  rationale  of 
Christian  faith.  The  great  doctrines  of  revelation — the  fall  of 
man — the  theory  of  redemption — the  effusion  of  the  Spirit, — all 
are  converted  from  objects  of  faith  to  objects  of  science  ; all  ffow, 
as  by  natural  consequence,  from  the  great  rhythm  of  existence ; 
nay,  the  controversies  of  the  Church  themselves  are  settled,  and 
the  repose  of  the  world  announced  in  the  predominance  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  beloved  apostle  over  the  equally  partial  views, 
both  of  the  Protestant  and  the  Catholic.  Such,  and  far  more 
sweeping  than  we  have  represented  it,  is  the  philosophical  system 
by  which  the  name  of  Schelling  is  destined  to  go  down  the  stream 
of  time  to  the  latest  posterity. 

To  give  any  elaborate  critique  upon  Schelling’s  philosophy,  we 
imagine  is  in  this  country  quite  unnecessary,  inasmuch  as  it  would 
be  arguing  about  a system,  which  very  few  as  yet  understand,  and 
prehaps  no  one  believes  in.  We  shall  only  offer  one  or  two  reffec- 
tions  upon  some  of  the  main  positions  which  almost  necessarily 
suggest  themselves.  First  of  all,  where  is  our  guarantee  for  the 
validity  of  the  intellectual-intuition  principle,  upon  which  the 


454 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


whole  truth  of  the  system  rests,  and  without  which,  as  Schell- 
ing  acknowledges,  no  one  can  take  one  single  step  into  his  philoso- 
phy ? Respecting  our  knowledge  of  the  Absolute,  there  are  in 
fact  no  less  than  three  hypotheses  in  vogue.  The  first  is,  that  the 
knowledge  of  it  is  altogether  impossible,  there  being  no  higher 
faculty  than  the  understanding,  and  that  being  cognizant  simply  of 
relative  and  finite  phenomena.  The  next  hypothesis  maintains, 
that  we  have  a faculty  superior  to  the  understanding,  namely,  the 
reason  ; by  which  we  gain  an  idea  of  the  absolute  as  the  primary 
existence  in  which  all  finite  things  are  grounded.  The  third  hy- 
pothesis is,  that  of  intellectual  intuition,  by  which,  as  Schelling 
imagines,  we  are  not  only  cognizant  of  the  absolute,  but  have  an 
insight  also  into  the  very  laws  of  its  development  in  creation. 

Now  Schelling  fully  admits  that  the  Absolute  cannot  be  known 
by  our  oi'dinary  intellectual  faculties ; in  other  words,  that  the 
actual  essence  of  things  cannot  be  attained  to  simply  by  our  un- 
derstanding. Instead  of  contenting  himself,  however,  with  the 
faculty  of  reason,  as  the  revealer  of  absolute  existence,  he  has 
ventured  to  run  into  an  altogether  wild  hypothesis,  and  under  the 
fiction  of  intellectual  intuition,  has  pretended  to  unfold,  a priori, 
all  the  secrets  of  natui’e,  as  being  various  modi  of  the  Divine  ex- 
istence ; in  a word,  to  reproduce  in  our  own  consciousness  Deity 
itself.  We  cannot  but  think  that  Schelling  has  far  too  gratuitously 
taken  for  granted,  both  the  reality  of  the  process,  which  he  terms 
intellectual  intuition,  and  the  reality  of  the  product ; especially  as 
he  professes  to  erect  a scientific  system,  having  self-evident  axioms 
at  its  basis.  If  his  doctrine  of  identity  means  anything,  it  means 
that  thought  and  being  are  essentially  one ; that  the  process  of 
thinking  is  virtually  the  same  as  the  process  of  creating ; that  in 
constructing  the  universe  by  logical  deduction,  we  do  virtually  the 
same  thing  as  Deity  accomplishes  in  developing  himself  into  all 
the  forms  and  regions  of  creation  ; that  every  man’s  reason,  there- 
fore, is  really  God : in  fine,  that  Deity  is  the  whole  sum  of  con- 
sciousness immanent  in  the  world.  “ This  doctrine,”  says  M. 
Willm,  in  his  Memoir  to  the  French  Academy,  “is  founded — 

“ 1.  Upon  an  illusion.  For  it  takes  the  pi'ocessof  ordinary  gen- 
eralization for  an  absolute  law  of  reason  ; and  erects  the  principle 
at  which  generalization  stops,  into  the  real  and  essential  principle 
of  things  themselves. 

“ 2.  Upon  a paralogism.  For  it  confounds  the  order  of  knowl- 
edge with  the  order  of  existence. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


455 


“ 3.  Upon  an  exaggeration.  For  it  exaggerates  the  harmony 
which  exists,  or  which  we  naturally  affirm  between  our  intelli- 
gence and  reality,  by  making  it  an  identity,  and  attributing  to 
reason  so  absolute  an  authority,  that  everything  must  be  as  it 
thinks,  from  the  moment  that  it  thinks  it. 

“4.  Upon  an  hypothesis.  For  it  is  a gratuitous  supposition  to 
place  all  truth  in  the  reason,  and  thus  to  equal  reason  with  God.”* 

To  be  convinced  that  Schelling’s  axioms  are  not  the  soundest, 
we  have  only  to  look  next  to  some  of  the  actual  conclusions  of 
his  philosophy,  and  consider  whether  they  be  not  in  the  highest 
degree  unsatisfactory.  As  an  example  of  this,  we  imagine,  that 
his  original  system  of  identity,  which  makes  the  whole  phenomena 
of  the  universe  one  chain  of  necessary  development,  is  entirely  in- 
consistent with  the  facts  of  physical  and  moral  evil ; and  equally 
so  with  the  conscious  freedom  of  man  as  a moral  agent.  Again  ; 
the  view  maintained  by  Schelling  I’especting  Deity,  as  coming 
gradually  to  self-consciousness,  and  realizing  himself  only  in  man, 
is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  perfections  of  God,  as  displayed  in 
the  design  of  the  universe,  and  felt  in  the  holier  emotions  of  man’s 
religious- nature.  Further;  the  result  of  the  system,  as  a theory 
of  natural  philosophy,  by  no  means  answers  to  the  expectations 
it  excites.  One  would  think,  that  if  the  very  laws  of  material 
existence  were  laid  bare,  there  could  be  no  further  need  of  ex- 
perimental investigations.  What  then,  is  the  fact? — within  the 
bounds  of  experimental  philosophy  not  an  idea  is  introduced, 
which  can  bear  any  other  title  than  that  of  pure  hypothesis ; 
while  the  rough  path  of  induction  must  still  be  beaten  as  dili- 
gently, as  though  Schelling’s  great  a priori  discoveries  had  never 
-dawned  upon  the  world.  If  we  are  to  have  a purely  rational  phi- 
losophy at  all,  which  shall  satisfy  the  phenomena  of  the  universe, 
and  explain  the  whole  experience  of  the  human  consciousness,  it 
must  rest  upon  a far  surer  foundation  than  that  which  Schelling 
has  laid,  and  answer  far  more  perfectly  to  the  external  and  internal 
facts,  which  come  before  our  daily  observation.  The  day,  we 
imagine,  is  far  distant,  before  we  shall  have  to  welcome  the  devel- 
opment of  any  great  physical  laws  from  one  who  entirely  sets  at 
nought  the  whole  logic  of  induction. 

With  regard  to  Schelling’s  Theosophy,  we  can  hardly  view  it  as 
meriting  the  title  of  philosophy  at  all,  in  any  true  or  proper  sense  ; 
indeed,  we  believe  it  is  very  generally  rejected  in  Germany,  even 
* Remusat  “ De  la  Philosophie  AUemande,”  p.  187. 


456 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


by  those  who  had  been  warm  admirers  of  his  original  system. 
With  these  obvious  objections,  however,  we  must  admit,  that,  as 
an  instance  of  bold  generalization,  of  fertile  fancy,  of  reasoning 
ingenuity,  abounding  at  the  same  time  in  original  views  on  many 
topics,  and  exhibiting  a most  extensive  acquaintance  with  almost 
every  branch  of  human  knowledge,  the  philosophy  of  Schelling 
exhibits  a monument  of  genius,  which,  in  the  same  department, 
has  been  seldom  equalled,  and  perhaps  never  exceeded,  in  the 
world.* 

Fichte  and  Schelling  represent  the  two  opposite  sides  of  the 
modern  German  idealism ; the  one  starting  from  the  subjective 
principle,  the  other  from  the  objective — the  one  regarding  self,  the 
other  the  infinite  and  eternal  mind,  the  soul  of  the  world,  as  the 
Absolute.  Hegel,  to  whom  we  must  now  turn  our  attention,  has 
passed  beyond  the  region  both  of  the  one  and  the  other,  and  at- 
tained to  the  elevation  of  what  is  usually  termed  absolute  idealism. 
Fichte  supposed  that  there  is  a real  subjective  existence,  in  whose 
nature  reside  those  limitations,  by  which  he  has  accounted  for  the 
phenomena  of  the  outward  world  ; and  Schelling  maintained  an 
original,  absolute,  living  essence,  containing  within  itself  the  laws 
of  its  own  self-development.  Hegel  has  first  resolved  everything 
into  & process  of  thought,  and  claimed  to  reach  the  point  at  which 
all  speculative  philosophy  aims — that  in  which  thought  and  exist- 
ence perfectly  coincide. 

George  William  Frederick  Hegel  was  born  at  Stuttgard,  in  the 
year  1770.  At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  went  to  the  university  of 
Tubingen,  where  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  theology,  and, 
in  the  philosophical  department,  attended  the  same  lectures  with 
Schelling.  After  having  taken  his  degree,  and  having  occupied  some 
years  as  a private  tutor,  he  went  to  Jena  in  the  year  1801,  where 
he  began  his  lectures  as  a professor,  with  an  auditory  of  four  stu- 
dents. The  next  sixteen  years  of  his  life  were  spent,  partly  as  a 
professor,  partly  as  rector  of  a gymnasium,  and  partly  as  an  editor 
and  author.  At  length,  in  the  year  1818,  he  was  called  to  Berlin, 
where  he  lectured  with  great  success  till  his  death,  which  took 
place  November  14,  1831. 

Hegel  began  his  philosophical  career  as  a firm  partisan  of  Schel- 
ling ; and  when  he  first  ventured  beyond  the  pale  of  his  authority, 
the  aim  was  rather  to  give  system  and  unity  to  Schelling’s  doc- 
trines, than  to  advance  any  altogether  new  ideas.  Schelling,  as 
* See  Note  G.  Appendix. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


457 


we  have  sufficiently  seen,  was  anything  but  systematic  in  his  phil- 
osophical writings ; in  continuing  to  pour  forth  the  productions 
of  his  inventive  genius,  through  the  medium  of  his  journals,  he 
seemed  to  aim  more  at  putting  his  thoughts  in  different  points  of 
view,  than  at  building  up  the  regular  framework  of  a scientific 
supetstructui’e.  Hegel,  with  less  invention,  possessed  greater  logi- 
cal acumen  and  far  more  method  than  his  contemporary ; and  to 
this  mainly  is  owing  the  great  extent  to  which  his  school  has  now 
spread  itself  throughout  Germany.* 

The  entrance  into  philosophy,  according  to  Schelling,  was  by 
the  door  of  intellectual  intuition,  a faculty  by  which  we  were  sup- 
posed to  gaze  immediately  upon  the  absolute,  as  we  gaze  by  ordi- 
nary sensation  upon  the  forms  of  the  material  world.  Hegel  con- 
sidered this  principle  to  be  unphilosophical,  and  strove  to  do  away 
with  the  necessity  of  a faculty  which  might  be  so  easily  abused, 
and  would  so  naturally  open  the  door  (as  was  actually  the  case) 
into  the  regions  of  mysticism.  With  this  object  in  view,  he  sought 
to  construct  a purely  logical  system,  where  there  should  be  no  in- 
explicable phenomena  remaining — where  no  real  essence,  either 
subjective  or  objective,  should  be  admitted,  that  was  not  fully  sub- 
limated into  thought,  and  that  might  not  form  indeed  a logical  part 
of  the  very  process  of  philosophy  itself 

With  Schelling,  ffiere  was  a primary  essence  in  the  absolute, 
previous  to  its  development,  and  which  therefore  did  not  originate 
in  the  developing  process ; in  more  technical  language,  there  was 
an  (x;)  which  remained  to  the  last  unresolved  in  his  philosophy. 
Instead  of  beginning  with  zero,  and  explaining  all  existence,  he 
began  with  a realistic  point — a certain  absolute  power  or  law,  per- 
ceived through  the  medium  of  intellectual  intuition,  and  made  this 
the  basis  of  everything  else.  Beyond  the  region  of  thought  there 
lay,  as  he  conceived,  the  region  of  real  existence,  containing  in  it 
the  principle  of  its  own  self-unfolding.  With  Hegel,  however,  the 
case  was  different : he  allowed  of  no  original  essence  whatever, 
which  was  not  identical  with  thought,  and  which  was  not  com- 
pletely worked  up  into  his  philosophical  process.  The  x was  with 
him  entirely  resolved ; for,  beginning  with  nothing,  he  showed 
with  logical  precision  how  everything  had  regularly  proceeded 
from  it. 

* Hegel  himself  says  in  a letter  to  his  friend  Van  Ghert: — “ Das,  worauf,  hei  allem 
philosophiren,  und  jetzt  mehrals  sonst,  das  Hauptgewicht  zu  legen  ist,  ist  freilich  die 
Methode  des  nolhwendigen  zusammenhans’s,  des  Uehergehens  einer  Form  in  die  Andere.” 
— Vermischte  Schriften,  vol.  ii.  page  4*9. 


458 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Another  point  of  difl'erence  between  these  two  great  philosophers 
lies  here.  Schelling’s  intuition  was  of  such  a nature,  that  the  law 
of  the  universe  (the  process  of  objectifying  and  again  subjectifying) 
was  learned  by  experience.  The  rhythm  of  all  existence  was  sup- 
posed by  him  to  be  cognizable  at  the  same  time  by  the  inward  ex- 
perience of  the  subjective  self,  in  the  outward  operations  of  nature, 
and  likewise  in  the  progressive  course  of  the  world’s  history. 
Hegel’s  philosophy,  on  the  contrary,  is  pure  rationalism,  from  the 
very  first  step  to  the  last ; it  results  from  resigning  oneself  en 
'tirely  to  the  laws^of -thought,  as  seen  in  speculative  reasoning,  and 
regards  the  self-development  of  that  thought  as  being  the  true  rev- 
elation of  the  Absolute,  that  is,  of  God.  Thoughts  are,  with  him, 
the  only  concrete  realities ; and  logic,  as  being  a true  description 
of  their  processes,  is  at  the  same  time  a true  description  of  the 
laws  of  the  universe.  With  other  philosophers,  logic  had  been 
merely  a formal  science ; but  although  its  dignity  had  been  much 
raised  by  Kant,  as  also  by  Fichte  and  Schelling,  yet  it  was  re- 
served for  Hegel  to  deny  altogether  its  formal  character,  to  make 
it  a real  branch  of  metaphysics,  and  to  admit  it  as  a part  of  the 
process  by  which  the  whole  universe  of  things  is  constructed. 
Not  only  (as  in  the  philosophy  of  Schelling)  is  the  method  of  logic 
regarded  equally  with  the  phenomena  of  nature  as  a manifestation 
of  the  Absolute,  but  it  is  apart  of  the  very  process  in  which  the  ab- 
solute itself  consists.  With  these  principles,  it  is  easy  to  see  how 
significantly  the  Hegelian  philosophy  has  been  denominated  a 
system  of  absolute  idealism. 

We  see  here,  in  fact,  the  perfect  culmination  of  the  idealistic 
method.  Kant  admitted  a double  principle  as  the  basis  of  his  phi- 
losophy ; the  subjective /o™s  of  the  understanding  uniting  with  an 
empirical  element,  in  order  to  give  rise  to  real  knowledge.  Fichte 
brought  the  question  of  realism  and  idealism  to  a crisis.  What- 
ever we  know  of  a certainty,  he  affirmed,  must  be  the  act  of  our 
own  consciousness.  Philosophy,  therefore,  must  take  its  stand 
upon  this  one  subjective  principle,  and  deduce  all  knowledge,  as  a 
spider  spins  its  web,  from  the  laws  of  the  inward  self.  Schelling 
perceived  that  if  we  take  our  stand  here,  one  of  two  things  must 
follow ; either  we  must  admit  the  me  to  be  the  absolute  generating 
principle  of  all  things,  so  that  the  world  is  but  the  shadow  projected 
by  its  own  laws,  (a  result  which  ends  virtually  in  nihilism,)  or 
allowing  the  two  terms  of  subject  and  object  to  have  a distinct 
existence,  we  fail  of  a single  and  absolute  basis  for  human  knowl- 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


459 


edge,  and  return  to  the  old  disputes  between  the  realist,  the  ideal- 
ist, and  the  sceptic.  To  relieve  this  difficulty,  he  affirmed  the 
fundamental  unity  or  identity  of  subject  and  object,  regarding 
them  as  the  two  poles  of  existence — separate  in  their  manifesta- 
tions, but  the  one  infallibly  leading  to  the  other.  Schelling,  it  is 
known,  made  several  attempts  to  develop  the  unity  of  his  system, 
and  furnish  the  philosophy  of  the  absolute,  but  never  fully  suc- 
ceeded. The  poles  ever  persisted  in  remaining  apart,  the  indiffer- 
ence point  being  unfound.  At  this  point,  Hegel  came  forward  with 
the  assertion  that  subject  and  object,  thought  and  existence,  are 
absolutely  one — and  that  the  only  actual  reality  is  that  which  re- 
sults from  their  mutual  relation.  Take  any  material  object  as  an 
illustration.  Fichte  would  say,  it  is” a result  of  my  inward  activity. 
Schelling  would  contend  that  the  outward  fact  and  inward  percep- 
tion'areir^th'feal,  but  both  the  manifestation  of  the  absolute  essence 
in  different  stages  of  its  development.  Hegel  says  no — the  out- 
ward thing  is  nothing,  the  inward  perception  is  nothing,  for  neither 
could  exist  alone  ; the  only  reality  is  the  relation,  or  rather  the 
synthesis  of  the  two,  which  accordingly  shows  us  that  the  essence 
or  nature  of  being  itself  consists  in  the  co-existence  of  two  oppo- 
sites. Accordingly,  the  ordinai-y  conception  which  men  have 
formed  of  things,  is  completely  reversed.  We  generally  consider 
that  an  individual  object,  say  a man  or  a horse,  is  a reality,  and , 
that  it  is  the  mind  which  forms  the  universal  idea  for  its  own  con- 
venience. Hegel,  on  the  other  hand,  affii'ms,  that  it  is  the  uni- 
_yersal  and  particular  ideas,  the  genus  and  species  put  together, 
which  actually  create  the  individual.  Ideas,  therefore,  arising  as 
they  do  from  the  union  of  two  opposites,  are  the  concrete  realities 
of  Hegel’s  philosophy ; and  the  process  of  the  evolution  of  ideas 
in  the  human  mind  is,  at  the  same  time,  the  process  of  all  existence 
— the  Absolute — God.  On  this  ground  it  is,  that  logic  is  the  ne- 
cessary basis  of  every  system  of  absolute  idealism.*' 

Philosophy  begins,  then,  on  the  Hegelian  principle,  by  our  gain- 
ing a clear  conception  of  the  laws  of  thought;  those  laws  by  which 
the  knowledge  of  anything  whatever  is  arrived  at.  In  attempting 
to  observe  these  laws,  we  soon  discover  that  the  process  of  know- 
ing implies  a threefold  movement.  First  of  all,  our  consciousness 
exists  in  a condition  in  which  it  is  one  with  the  object.  Pure  sensa- 
tion (as  is  generally  admitted)  would  never  give  us  the  knowledge 

♦ The  student  of  Hegel  may  consult,  on  this  point  Dr.  Ott’s  work,  entitled  “ Hegel, 
etla  Philosophic  Allemande,”  chap,  ii.,  where  many  illustrations  of  the  above  princi- 
ples will  be  found. 


460 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  an  external  world ; all  that  it  affords  us  is  a bare  feeling ; so 
that  the  primary  step  in  the  attainment  of  the  knowledge  of  any 
object,  must  be  the  state  in  which  there  is  a complete  blending  of 
subject  and  object  (simple  apprehension).  Secondly,  instead  of 
remaining  in  this  state  of  consciousness,  we  soon  objectify  it ; 
sensation  becomes  perception,  and  we  refer  our  feeling  to  some 
real  outward  existence  as  the  cause.  The  faculty  by  which  this 
separation  between  subject  and  object  is  effected,  is  the  under- 
standing (Verstand),  answering  to  judgment  in  the  ordinary  divis- 
ion of  the  scholastic  logic.  The  third  process  is  that  in  which  our 
consciousness  again  returns  to  complete  union  with  the  object, 
even  whilst  the  object  remains  before  us  in  all  its  clearness.  In 
this  last  movement,  we  perceive  the  object  as  a product,  or  process 
of  our  own  minds : while,  therefore,  it  is,  as  an  outward  reality, 
destroyed,  (aufgehoben,)  yet  as  a process  of  our  own  consciousness 
it  is  preserved ; or,  in  the  words  of  the  author,  the  object  is  subla- 
tum,  the  process  is  servatum.  As  the  former  movement  was  the 
effect  of  the  understanding,  so  this  is  of  the  reason  (Vernunft). 

In  this  process,  then,  which  we  find  to  be  uniformly  followed, 
when  we  attain  the  knowledge  of  anything,  we  see  the  law,  or  the 
rhythm  of  all  nature,  and  all  existence.  Take  any  object  what- 
ever, and  ask  how  it  becomes  to  us  a real  existing  idea  or  thing 
(for  with  Hegel  those  two  are  the  same).  Philosophers  ordinarily 
say,  that  when  we  have  a perception  there  is  implied  the  mind  or 
subject  that  perceives  on  the  one  side,  and  the  object  which  is  per- 
ceived on  the  other,  the  two  communicating  by  some  unknown 
process.  The  pure  subjective  idealist,  it  is  true,  denies  the  reality 
of  the  object,  and  regards  it  as  a production  of  the  subject ; but 
Schelling  had  exploded  this  notion,  and  introduced  the  doctrine  of 
identity,  according  to  which  we  must  admit  a real  subject  and  a 
real  object,  but  must  regard  them  as  two  corresponding  manifesta- 
tions of  the  same  absolute  existence.  Hegel,  however,  now  goes 
one  step  further  in  his  analysis.  He  says,  that  there  is  neither  sub- 
ject nor  object  separately  considered,  but  that  they  both  owe  their 
existence  and  reality  to  each  other.  The  only  real  existence,  then, 
is  the  relation ; the  whole  universe  is  a universe  of  relations ; sub- 
ject and  object,  which  appear  contradictory  to  each  other,  are 
really  one — not  one  in  the  sense  of  Schelling,  as  being  opposite 
poles  of  the  same  absolute  existence,  but  one,  inasmuch  as  their 
relation  forms  the  very  idea,  or  the  very  thing  itself 

This  procedure,  then,  by  which  everything  comes  into  being,  is 


THE  GERMA^  SCHOOL. 


46  J 

the  very  soul  and  essence  of  life,  of  nature,  of  the  absolute ; and 
Deity,  which  was  in  the  other  systems  an  original  and  self-existent 
reality,  is  now  a process  or  movement  ever  unfolding  itself,  but 
never  unfolded.  God  only  realizes  himself,  in  fact,  in  the  progress 
of  the  human  consciousness  ; and  the  process  by  which  this  reali- 
zation is  effected,  is  absolutely  synonymous  with  himself.  In  a 
word,  the  dialectic  process  is  Hegel’s  method  ; the  dialectic  pro- 
cess is  his  Deity : the  dialectic  process  is  everything : all  nature, 
all  mind,  all  history,  all  religion,  are  but  pulsations  of  this  move- 
ment, and  God  himself  is  but  the  same  law  taken  absolutely  in  its 
whole  comprehension.  In  the  threefold  rhythm  of  all  existence,  as 
given  by  Hegel,  there  is  a manifest  affinity  with  the  three  poten- 
cies of  Schelling ; but  it  was  Hegel  alone  who  ventured  to  make  a 
universe  of  pure  relations,  and  to  raise  the  process,  the  very  method 
of  his  philosophy,  to  the  dignity  of  being  itself  the  absolute  idea 
= God. 

With  these  preliminary  observations  we  must  now  proceed  to 
look  a little  closer  into  the  interior  of  the  system.  The  point  on 
which  we  must  stand,  in  order  to  take  a comprehensive  view  over 
the  whole  range  of  Hegel’s  philosophy,  is  that  of  the  absolute  idea. 
The  Absolute  is  with  him  not  the  infinite  substance,  as  with  Spi- 
noza, nor  the  infinite  subject,  as  with  Fichte,  nor  the  infinite  mind, 
as  with  Schelling ; it  is  a perpetual  process,  an  eternal  thinking, 
without  beginning  and  without  end.  This  process  of  thought,  uni- 
versally considered,  is  identical  with  the  logical  evolution  of  ideas 
in  the  human  mind.  The  law  of  evolution  may  be  easily  grasped. 
Let  us  imagine  that  we  want  to  develop  some  idea,  and  gain  the 
fullest  possible  conception  of  it,  how  do  we  proceed  ? We  find  on 
reflection  that  the  idea  divides  itself  into  two  opposites,  the  one  of 
which  is  the  negation  of  the  other ; so  that  the  idea  hangs,  as  it 
were,  in  the  balance  between  the  two.  Here,  however,  the  pi’o- 
cess  does  not  stop.  This  negation  is  itself  met  by  another  nega- 
tion, and  thus  the  idea  with  which  we  started  is  restored,  only  en- 
riched by  the  very  process  we  have  described.  The  same  process 
is  again  repeated ; at  each  turn  the  idea  is  evolved  to  a higher  de- 
gree ; and  thus  it  proceeds  onwards  until  it  reaches  the  absolute 
idea  itself 

Now  this  law  is  seen  on  a vast  scale  in  the  whole  universe  of 
thought,  with  which  philosophy  has  to  do.  Here,  as  in  our  own 
minds,  we  recognize  a threefold  movement ; that  movement  ex- 
pressing the  innermost  nature  of  all  things.  The  first  step  is  the 


462 


MODERN  nilLOSOrHY. 


infinite  idea  in  itself  (Idee  in  sich).  The  second  is  the  idea  in  its 
objective  form,  or  in  its  differentiation  (Idee  in  ihrem  anders-seyn). 
The  third  is  the  idea  in  its  regress.  These  movements,  viewed  in 
connection  with  the  process  of  thinking  in  which  the  absolute  con- 
sists, and  in  which  they  are  perfectly  represented,  give  us,  1st,  bare 
thought  (Denken  an  sich),  2dly,  thought  externalizing  itself  = na- 
ture, and,  3dly,  thought  returning  to  itself  = mind.  Accordingly, 
philosophy  has  three  corresponding  divisions : — logic,  philosophy 
of  nature,  and  philosophy  of  spirit.  The  first  is  the  region  of  bare 
thinking,  the  second  is  the  region  of  thought  in  its  objective  forms, 
and  the  third  is  the  region  of  thought  in  its  reflective  movement  in 
the  soul  of  man.*  The  whole  object  of  philosophy,  therefore,  is  to 
develop  existence  from  its  most  empty  and  abstract  form  up  through 
logic,  nature,  and  mind,  to  its  highest  and  richest  elevation  as  at- 
tained in  the  human  consciousness.  In  this  we  shall  find  the  same 
process  perpetually  repeating  itself,  and  gaining  something  fresh  at 
every  pulsation,  until  it  arrives  at  its  highest  perfection.!  We  be- 
gin, then,  with — 


LOGIC. 

This  is  the  region  of  abstract  thought,  in  which  the  absolute  ap- 
pears in  its  first  and  most  undeveloped  form.  Logic,  as  being  the 
province  of  Idee  an  sich,  is  intended  to  show  the  subjective  pro- 
cesses of  thought ; to  point  out  the  method  by  which,  from  the 
most  empty  of  all  our  notions,  we  rise  gradually  to  the  most  rich 
and  full-!  To  explain  the  true  process  of  logical  thinking  we  must 
observe,  that  all  knowledge  consists  in  a separation  or  distinguish- 
ing of  one  thing  from  another.  In  every  thought  there  are  two 
parts,  which  stand  opposed ; both  of  which  are  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  give  it  a clear  and  actual  meaning.  It  is  the  same  whether 
we  view  thought  in  the  form  of  sensation,  or  of  perception,  or  of 
reflection ; in  eveiy  instance,  there  must  be  something  separated, 
defined,  distinguished,  or  placed  in  opposition  to  something  else. 
We  have  no  notion,  e.  g.,  of  a finite  without  an  infinite ; no  idea  of 

* For  a brief  exhibition  of  the  idea  and  division  of  philosophy,  the  student  may  con- 
sult the  introduction  of  Hegel’s  “ Logic.” — N.B.  The  logic  as  given  in  the  “ Encyclo- 
psdie,”  is  shorter  and  clearer  than  the  original  edition.  The  references  accordingly 
will  be  given  to  this. 

t Previous  to  “ Logic,”  Hegel  wrote  the  '■  Phanomenologie  des  Geistes.”  This  he 
used  to  term  his  Voyage  of  Discovery.  It  is  considered  the  most  obscure  of  his 
writings. 

:j:  Die  Logik  ist  die  Wissenschaft  der  reinen  Idee,  das  ist  der  Idee  im  abstrakten  Ele- 
mente  des  Denkens.  Logik,  p.  28. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


463 


cause  without  effect ; no  idea  of  subjective  without  objective.  So 
also  in  natui'e  there  could  be  no  north  pole  without  a south,  and 
no  idea  of  material  substance  without  immaterial. 

This  being  the  case,  it  is  not  possible  for  any  notion  to  exist  as' 
an  absolute  unity : it  must,  in  every  instance,  consist  of  two  sides, 
a positive  and  a negative  ; and  to  complete  it,  these  two  sides 
must  be  combined  so  as  to  form  one  perfect  idea.  This  is  called 
by  Hegel  the  doctrine  of  contradiction,  (Widerspruch,)  which 
simply  means,  that  in  every  idea  we  form,  there  must  be  two  things 
opposed  and  distinguished,  in  order  to  afford  us  a clear  conception 
and  a definite  meaning.  In  this  doctrine  of  contradiction,  or  rather 
we  would  term  it,  of  opposition,  Hegel  finds  the  rhythm  of  the 
whole  logical  process,  the  two  opposites  answering  to  the  two 
former  movements  of  the  dialectic  process  above  described,  and  the 
union  of  these  two  in  one  idea,  corresponding  with  the  third  or 
highest  movement  of  the  same.  Logic,  accordingly,  falls  into 
three  parts  : 

I.  The  doctrine  of  Being,  or  thought  in  its  immediacy. 

II.  The  doctrine  of  Essence,  or  thought  in  its  communication. 

III.  The  doctrine  of  Notion,  or  thought  in  its  regress,  in  which 
it  forms  a complete  idea  in  itself* 

Now  if  the  problem  were  placed  before  us,  to  trace  the  existence 
of  all  things  from  their  very  first  coming  into  being  to  the  attain- 
ment of  their  present  form,  we  should  have  (beginning  with  things 
as  they  now  are)  to  follow  them  backwards,  until  we  came  to  noth- 
ing, and  there  we  should  find  the  starting-point  of  the  process  of 
creation.  In  like  manner,  when  we  attempt  to  analyze  the  devel- 
opment of  thought  (which  with  Hegel  is  identical  with  existence), 
we  must  seize  the  very  emptiest,  most  abstract,  most  meaningless 
notion  we  can  find,  and  from  that  deduce  all  the  rest  in  regular 
course  by  the  process  akeady  laid  down.  This  primary  and  most 
abstract  of  all  notions  is  that  of  being,  (seyn,)  and  forms  accord- 
ingly the  first  division  of  Hegel’s  logic. 

First  Division.  Doctrine  of  Being. — In  asking  how  a thing 
can  begin  to  be,  we  require  to  see  its  transition  from  Nothing  into 
Being.  Without  the  idea  of  nothing,  we  could  never  have  that 
of  being,  and  vice  versa ; so  that  the  two  stand  to  one  another  as 
opposites,  and  both  together  combine  to  form  a complete  notion, 
viz.,  that  of  bare  production,  or  the  becoming  (werden),  of  some- 
thing out  of  nothing.  This,  then,  is  the  first  step  in  philosophy, 

* Logik,  p.  161. 


464 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  primary  pulsation  of  the  dialectic  process.  In  it  being  and 
nothing  stand  as  the  poles  ; and  the  conjunction  of  them  forms  the 
notion  of  existence.  In  these  three  (sein,  nichts,  werden),  we  see 
the  type  or  symbol  of  all  thought,  showing  us,  that  for  every  com- 
plete idea  there  must  be  the  combination  of  two  opposites.  Nei- 
ther being  nor  nothing  can  exist  as  a reality  of  itself;  each  is  but 
the  opposite  pole  of  the  other,  and  it  is  in  their  indifference  that 
the  act  of  coming  into  existence  first  appears.  Hence  the  mean- 
ing of  the  extraordinary  equation  that  stands  at  the  threshold  of 
Hegel’s  philosophy,  Sein  = Nichts;  and  hence,  the  first  conclu- 
sion, that  the  notions  of  being  and  nothing  combined,  form  that  of 
existence.  This  may  appear  clearer  to  the  German  scholar,  if  we 
say  in  Hegel’s  language,  that  Sein  and  Nichts  form  Daseyn.* 

Now,*  the  same  process  goes  over  again.  Daseyn  gives  rise  to 
a twofold  movement,  b}'^  which  a still  higher  point  in  the  scale  of 
being  is  attained.  An  existence  may  be  viewed  in  relation  to 
itself,  or  in  relation  to  the  things  around  it ; it  may  be  existence 
an  sick,  or  existence  fur  andre.  Here  then  we  have  another  op- 
position ; an  existence  can  only  be  this  because  it  is  not  that.] 
This  and  that  taken  alone  would  be  absolutely  meaningless,  the  one 
must  limit  or  bound  off  the  other.  Existence  alone  would  only 
give  a general  and  undefined  idea ; to  have  the  notion  of  a distinct 
existence,  a reality,  there  must  be  the  negation  as  well  as  the  af- 
firmation of  Being.  A rose,  for  example,  is  a rose  only  because  it 
is  not  a lily,  or  anything  else — blue  is  blue,  because  it  is  not  green. 
So,  universally,  the  affirmation  of  any  real  thing  implies  in  it  the 
negation  of  a certain  amount  of  attributes.  Here,  then,  we  have 
the  category'  of  Quality,  that  is  Being,  determined  and  limited 
by  a negation ; the  steps  through  which  we  have  arrived  at  it  be- 
ing Seyn,  Daseyn,  Fiir-sich-seyn.  This  category  clearly  shows  us 
how  we  come  to  the  notions  of  finite  and  infinite.  A real  some- 
thing (etwas)  is  distinguished  from  all  other  things,  by  its  being 
limited  or  bounded  off ; destroy  those  limitations,  and  it  flows  back 
into  infinity.  Thus  the  notions  of  finite  and  infinite  are  both/;e?' 
se  incomplete  ; the  one  is  necessary  to  the  other,  and  both  arise 
from  that  movement  of  logical  thinking  by  which  we  rise  from  the 
bare  notion  of  being,  to  that  of  some  particular  existence. J 

The  three  ideas  we  have  just  deduced,  falling  under  the  cate- 
gory of  quality,  all  point  to  the  inner  nature  of  things,  and  not  to 

* Logik,  p.  165 — 179. 

t There  is  here  a play  upon  the  German  expression  for  existence,  Daseyn. 

Logik,  p.  180,  el  seq. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


465 


their  outward  form.  The  next  category  in  the  doctrine  of  bare 
existence  (Seyn)  is  that  of  quantity.  Under  this  are  explained  the 
notion  of  continued  size  and  divisible  size ; of  pure  quantity  and 
of  a particular  quantity  ; these  two  united  forming  the  notion  of 
degree  (Grad).  Degree,  then,  as  implying  a quantity  joined  to  a 
quality,  gives  the  idea  of  measure  (Mass),  or  the  relation  of  one 
quantity  to  another,  and  thus  completes  the  first  division  of  logic, 
or  “ die  Lehre  vom  Sein.”* 

Second  Division.  Doctrine  of  Essence. — In  the  second  division 
of  logic.  Being  appears  in  a more  determined,  definite,  and  inde- 
pendent form.  Instead  of  having  the  characteristic  of  bare 'empty 
existence,  it  has  now  that  of  real  concrete  existence,  and  gives  rise 
to  the  doctrine  of  essence,  “ die  Lehre  vom  Wesen.”f  This  sec- 
ond movement  of  the  logical  process,  as  seen  in  the  nature  of 
things,  answers  to  the  second  movement  in  mind,  where  the  under- 
standing separates  the  object  from  the  consciousness,  and  places  it 
as  a distinct  reality  before  us.  Here,  again,  we  have  a threefold 
division.  Essence  may  appear  either  as  the  ground,  or  substratum 
of  existence  (as  in  the  words,  matter,  spirit)  ; or  it  may  appear  as 
■phenomenon,  i.  e.,  as  expressing  those  qualities  of  objects  which 
cannot  be  separated  from  them ; and  then,  by  uniting  the  notion 
of  substratum  and  attribute,  we  attain  the  conception  of  a real 
thing  in  plain  contradistinction  from  that  universal  essence  of 
which  it  forms  a part.  Here  then  is  resolved  the  great  problem 
before  which  the  Eleatics  paused,  that  of  reconciling  the  individu- 
ality of  each  separate  thing  with  the  unity  of  the  absolute  essence. 

The  doctrine  of  essence  contains  the  explanation  of  a great 
number  of  those  philosophical  ideas,  which  have  played  an  impor- 
tant part  in  every  system  of  metaphysics.  Under  its  first  move- 
ment, we  have  the  deduction  of  the  notions  of  identity  and  differ- 
ence : of  concrete  existence  ; and  of  a thing  as  containing  proper- 
ties peculiar  to  itself  Under  the  second  movement  we  have  the 
ideas  of  a phenomenal  world,  of  matter  and  form,  and  of  relation 
generally,  all  deduced  in  philosophical  order.  Then,  lastly,  in  the 
third  movement,  we  have  the  union  of  the  other  two,  giving  the 
categories  of  substance,  of  cause,  and  of  action  and  reaction.  All 
these  notions,  with  many  of  their  collateral  ideas,  are  grasped  by 
the  dialectic  method,  in  its  onward  progress,  and  made  to  take 
their  due  position  as  organic  parts  of  the  whole  system. 

We  have  now  traced  the  dialectic  process  through  two  of  its 


• Logik,  p.  201,  et  seq. 


t Logik,  p,  223. 


30 


466 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


spheres  of  action,  and  shown  how,  from  the  bare  idea  of  being,  we 
come  at  length  to  that  of  a distinct,  essential,  real  tJiing,  When 
we  attempt  to  proceed  beyond  this,  we  get  into  a higher  region  of 
thought,  the  doctrine  of  notions  (die  Lehre  vom  Begriff,)  answer- 
ing to  the  reasoning  process  in  formal  logic,  and  in  nature  answer- 
ing to  all  organism  and  life,  up  to  the  highest  developments  of  mind 
itself. 

Third  Division.  Doctrine  of  Notions.* — The  three  divisions  of 
logic  will  now  stand  thus  in  relation  to  each  other  : — 1.  The  doc- 
trine of  Being  answers  to  the  abstract  conceptions  of  time  and 
space,  giving  us  only  those  ideas  which  are  purely  qualitative  or 
quantitative.  2.  The  doctrine  of  Essence  answers  to  time  and 
space,  not  in  the  abstract  but  the  concrete,  filled  up,  the  one  with 
actual  existence,  the  other  with  real  phenomena,  such  as  those  of 
substance,  attribute,  cause,  and  effect,  &c.  Then,  lastly,  the  doc- 
trine of  Notion  {Begriff),  refers  to  all  those  things  which  have 
peculiar  characteristics  of  their  own — real  and  definable  objects, 
whether  in  the  region  of  organized  or  inorganized  existence.  This 
last  doctrine,  that  of  potions,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  other  two, 
has  three  divisions  : first,  notion  in  its  subjective  point  of  view, 
giving  the  different  movements  of  the  mind  as  seen  in  simple  ap- 
prehension, judgment,  reasoning  ; secondly,  notion  in  its  objective 
point  of  view,  giving  us  the  conceptions  of  the  three  realms  of 
nature — the  mechanical,  the  chemical,  and  the  organized ; and, 
thirdly,  we  have  the  union  of  subject  and  object,  expressed  by 
Hegel  in  the  word  idea,  which  rises,  also,  through  three  successive 
steps  : first,  as  life ; then,  as  intelligence  ; and  lastly,  as  the  abso- 
lute idea — the  summit  of  the  whole  process,  and  synonymous  with 
Deity.  It  must  not  be  supposed,  that  in  this  third  division  of  the 
Logic,  we  have  got  beyond  the  region  oi pure  thinking.  We  have 
simply  traced  the  evolution  of  thought  upwards,  through  its  more 
empty  and  abstract  forms  ; enriching  it  with  a greater  fulness  of 
meaning  at  every  step,  until  we  have  arrived  at  the  conceptions 
which  we  find  embodied  in  nature  and  the  soul — those  Platonic 
archetypes,  pure  thought  in  themselves,  to  which  the  universe  itself 
is  perfectly  conformable. 

To  give  a clearer  idea  of  the  several  divisions  and  subdivisions 
of  Hegel’s  logic,  we  shall  subjoin  the  following  scheme,  which  the 
reader  may  now  compare  with  the  above  description.  . 

* Logik,  p.  315,  et  seq. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


467 


LOGIC  COMPREHENDS, 

I. 

The  Doctrine  of  Being.  (Die  Lehre  vom  Seyn). 

A.  Quality. 

a.  Being  (Seyn.) 

h.  Existence  (Daseyn.) 

c.  Independent  existence  (Fiir-sich-seyn). 

B.  Quantity. 

a.  Pure  quantity  (Reine  Quantitat). 
h.  Divisible  quantity  (Quantum), 
c.  Degree  (Grad). 

C.  Measure. 

(Mass.)  The  union  of  quality  and  quantity. 

II. 

The  Doctrine  of  Essence.  (Lehre  vom  Wesem). 

A.  Ground  of  Existence. 

a.  Pure  notions  of  essence. 
h.  Essential  existence  (Existenz). 
c.  Thing  (Ding). 

B.  Phenomenon. 

a.  Phenomenal  world  (Welt  der  Erscheinung). 
h.  Matter  and  form  (Inhalt  und  Form), 
c.  Relation  (Verhaltniss). 

C.  Reality.  Union  of  Ground,  and  Phenomenon. 

a.  Relation  of  substance. 
h.  Relation  of  cause. 
c.  Action  and  reaction. 

III. 

Doctrine  of  Notion.  (Lehre  vom  Begriff). 

A.  Subjective  Notion. 

a.  Notion  as  such  (Begriff  als  solches). 
h.  Judgment  (Urtheil). 
c.  Inference  (Schluss). 

B.  Object. 

a.  Mechanical  powers  (Mechanismus). 

b.  Chemical  powers  (Chemismus). 

c.  Design  (Teleologie). 


488 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


C.  Idea. 

a.  Life  (Leben). 

b.  Intelligence  (Erkennen). 

c.  Absolute  idea  (Absolute  Idee). 

In  the  above  sketch  of  Hegel’s  Logic  we  have  given  only  the 
chief  divisions  ; of  the  ingenuity  and  logical  acuteness  with  which 
these  divisions  are  deduced  the  one  from  the  other,  and  the  whole 
framework  built  up,  we  can  give  no  idea  whatever.  To  compre- 
hend this  fully,  we  must  refer  the  reader  to  his  Cyclopaedia  of 
Philosophical  Sciences,  (vol.  vi.)  published  in  a complete  edition 
of  his  works  by  his  most  distinguished  pupils  (Berlin,  1840). 

We  must  now  proceed  to  the  second  division  of  philosophy, 
namely, 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE.* 

The  transition  from  the  logic  to  the  philosophy  of  nature  is  by 
no  means  a clear  and  intelligible  step  in  the  Hegelian  system. 
Logic  is  the  region  of  bare  thought ; the  philosophy  of  nature  is 
the  region  of  thought  externalizing  itself.  Nature  is  still  thought, 
but  thought  in  its  objective  movement,  being  the  exact  opposite  to 
logical  thinking ; while  both  combine  in  the  philosophy  of  ndnd. 
In  order  to  account  for  the  process  of  thought  in  the  universe 
taking  that  objective  form  in  which  it  appears  as  nature,  Hegel  has 
recourse  to  a somewhat  far-fetched  doctrine  concerning  the  descent 
of  the  absolute  idea  from  its  original  unity,  as  subject-object,  into 
a state  of  separation ; just  as  in  pure  logical  thinking  the  under- 
standing separates  what  was  one  in  the  original  consciousness. 
Schelling,  as  we  have  already  seen,  regarded  nature  as  a part  of 
the  process  by  which  the  absolute  realized  itself : he  viewed  the 
process  of  development  aceordingly  as  necessary,  and  regarded  all 
existence  to  be  the  play  of  a supreme  fate.  Hegel  regarded  the 
dialectic  movement,  by  which  the  absolute  separates  itself  and  ex- 
ternalizes itself  in  nature,  as  perfectly /ree,  so  that  his  pantheism 
did  not  profess  to  destroy  the  notion  of  the  freedom  and  absolute 
personality  of  God. 

Now,  just  as  in  logic  the  absolute  process  appeared  in  its  three- 
fold movement,  so  also  does  it  appear  in  the  three  corresponding 

♦ This  forms  the  subject  of  the  second  volume  of  the  second  part  of  the  Encyclo- 
ptedie,  in  the  most  recent  edition. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


469 


ones  in  nature.  Nature  in  its  empty  undetermined  forms  (answer- 
ing to  the  doctrine  of  Being)  appears  in  that  peculiar  aspect  which 
is  taken  of  it  in  the  science  of  mechanics.  Here  there  are,  first, 
the  purely  mathematical  ideas  of  matter,  as  existing  in  time,  space, 
and  motion ; next,  there  are  the  mechanical  properties  of  matter, 
as  gravitation,  &c. ; and,  thirdly,  there  are  the  absolute  properties 
as  viewed  at  large  in  the  construction  of  the  material  universe, 
where  the  fixed  stars,  the  binary  stars,  and  the  solar  system,  give 
us  illustrations  of  the  different  kinds  of  forces  which  are  actually 
in  operation. 

The  second  division  of  the  philosophy  of  nature  is  physics. 
Here  we  take  into  consideration,  first,  the  general  forms  of  matter, 
as  earth,  water,  light,  &c. ; secondly,  the  phenomena  of  specific 
gravity,  cohesion,  elasticity,  &c. ; and,  thirdly,  the  specific  forms, 
as  acids,  alkalies,  metals,  &c. 

The  third  division  of  this  branch  of  philosophy  is  organism,  in 
which  the  other  two  movements  are  combined.  The  first  move- 
ment gave  to  nature  its  matter ; the  second  its  form  ; the  third  at 
length  affords  that  in  which  matter  and  form  are  united.  Here, 
again,  we  have  first,  the  geological  world ; secondly,  the  vegetable 
world ; and  thirdly,  the  animal  world ; the  last  leading  us  to  the 
point  where  the  philosophy  of  nature  ends  and  that  of  spirit  begins. 
To  give  a clearer  idea  of  the  chief  steps  under  which  this  branch 
is  treated,  we  annex  the  accompanying  scheme. 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE  COMPREHENDS, 

I. 

Mechanics, 

a.  Mathematical  properties. 
h.  Mechanical  properties, 
c.  Properties  of  absolute  motion  in  space. 

n. 

Physics. 

a.  General  forms  of  matter. 

b.  Relative  forms  of  matter. 

c.  Specific  forms  of  matter. 


V 


470 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


HI. 

Organism. 

a.  Geological  structure. 

b.  Vegetable  structure. 

c.  Animal  structure. 

Each  one  of  these  triplets  forms  one  complete  pulsation  of  the 
dialectic  process,  and  were  it  not  entering  too  far  into  detail,  each 
one  of  the  minor  divisions  would  be  seen  to  contain  a minor  move- 
ment of  the  same  threefold  process  as  well.  We  hasten  on,  how- 
ever, to  the  third  division  of  philosophy,  namely, 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  MIND. 

At  the  point  where  nature  leaves  off,  having  carried  on  her 
operations  to  the  very  highest  pitch  of  perfection  in  the  human 
organization,  the  philosophy  of  mind  begins.  In  this,  as  the  third 
great  division  of  philosophy,  we  have  pure  logical  thought  and 
nature  (the  subjective  and  the  objective)  fully  combined.  The 
steps  of  this  part  of  Hegel’s  philosophy,  corresponding  with  those 
in  logic  and  nature,  are  as  follows  : — 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  MIND. 


I. 

Viewed  subjectively. 

a.  Anthropology. 

b.  Psychology. 

c.  Will. 

II. 

Viewed  objectively. 

a.  Jurisprudence. 

b.  Morals. 

c.  Politics. 

III. 

Absolute  Mind, 
a.  ./Esthetics. 
h.  Religion, 
c.  Philosophy. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


471 


Each  one  of  these  several  points  contains  a separate  branch  of 
mental  philosophy  in  itself.  Thus,  in  the  subjective  movement,  we 
have,  under  anthropology,  the  different  races  of  mankind  discussed, 
varying,  as  they  do,  according  to  the  relative  development  of  their 
moral  and  intellectual  being.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  doctrine  of  the 
soul  in  its  original  constitution,  varying,  however,  according  to  the 
physical  peculiarities,  the  national  characteristics,  and  different  idi- 
osyncracies  of  individuals.  Under  psychology,  we  have  the  nature 
and  peculiarities  of  the  different  mental  processes  in  feeling,  per- 
ceiving, remembering,  imagining,  &c.,  all  analyzed  and  arranged 
according  to  the  Hegelian  method,  while  under  the  title  of  will,  we 
have  the  classification  of  our  active  powers,  showing  how  they  lead 
to  all  the  results  of  practical  life. 

In  the  objective  movement  we  are  introduced  to  the  whole  range 
of  moral  philosophy,  or  mind  in  its  relations  to  those  without.  This 
is  divided — first,  into  the  rights  of  person  and  property,  as  in  juris- 
prudence ; secondly,  into  the  rectitude  of  actions  generally,  viz. 
morals ; and,  thirdly,  into  domestic  and  public  duties,  which  may 
be  termed  (in  the  extended  meaning  of  the  word)  politics. 

Lastly,  when  we  rise  to  mind  in  its  absolute  form,  we  no  longer 
view  it  as  belonging  to  the  individual,  but  to  the  race,  and  look  for 
its  development,  not  in  the  life  of  a single  man,  but  in  the  history 
of  the  world.  The  primary  development  of  the  human  mind,  in 
the  process  of  civilization,  is  that  of  art ; for  the  age  of  poetry  pre- 
cedes all  others,  and  mythology  is  ever  the  form  in  which  truth  is 
first  embodied,  recognized,  and  taught.  To  this  succeeds  the  age 
of  religion,  in  which  God  is  regarded  as  a distinct  personality,  sep- 
arate from  the  world  and  separate  from  the  mind  of  the  worshipper 
— a Being  to  whom  we  owe  entire  allegiance  and  submission. 
Under  this  head  Hegel  discusses  the  various  forms  of  religion  which 
have  appeared  in  the  world,  from  the  earliest  ages  to  the  present. 
Last  of  all  comes  the  age  of  philosophy,  in  which  religion  rises  to 
its  pure  reflective  form,  and  truth  comes  forth  from  her  symbols 
to  appear  in  h^  naked  reality.  The  conclusion,  then,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  top-stone  of  mental  science,  is  the  History  of  Phi- 
losophy, as  it  has  appeared  in  the  world ; in  which  we  find  thought 
developing  itself  gradually  (according  to  the  process  given  in  the 
science  of  logic),  from  the  period  of  Parmenides,  who  stood  upon 
the  lowest  step  (that  of  bare  existence),  up  to  the  present  day,  in 
which  Hegel  himself  has  deduced  the  absolute  idea  in  all  the  ful- 
ness of  its  truth  and  glory ! 


472 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Most  of  the  branches  we  have  thus  briefly  indicated,  were  treated 
of  by  Hegel  in  distinct  courses  of  lectures.  With  regard  to  the 
subjective  branches,  namely,  anthropology,  psychology,  and  the 
theory  of  the  will,  nothing,  I believe,  has  been  published  in  a sepa- 
rate form.  Of  the  other  branches,  however,  abundant  material  has 
been  furnished  by  the  editors  of  the  Encyclopsedie,  to  give  us  the 
I'ullest  insight  into  Hegel’s  views  on  the  several  questions  to  which 
they  refer.  The  “ Grundlinien  der  Philosophic  des  Rechts,”  (Ele- 
ments of  the  Philosophy  of  Right,)  was  edited  by  Cans,  and  pub- 
lished in  1833,  comprehending  in  one  volume  the  Hegelian  doc- 
trine with  regard  to  abstract  right  (jurisprudence),  to  morality  at 
large,  and  to  social  rights  or  politics.  The  lectures  on  “ iEsthet- 
ics”  were  edited  by  Hotho,  and  are  considered  among  the  most  in- 
teresting of  Hegel’s  works.  Here  we  find  the  same  trichotomy  as 
in  all  the  other  branches  of  investigation,  namely,  art,  or  the  beau- 
tiful considered,  1st,  in  itself,  as  a conception  of  the  human  mind ; 
2dly,  in  its  objectivity,  as  seen  in  the  successive  schools  of  art,  his- 
torically considered ; and,  3dly,  in  its  perfect  realization,  as  seen  in 
the  special  branches  by  which  the  beautiful  has  been  expressed. 
The  lectures  on  the  philosophy  of  religion,  together  with  those  on 
the  proofs  of  the  Divine  existence,  were  first  brought  out  by  Mar- 
heineke,  in  1832,  (2  vols.  8vo).  Here,  according  to  the  same  three- 
fold method,  we  have  religion  viewed,  1st,  subjectively,  giving  us 
the  abstract  conceptions  with  which  our  religious  life  is  conversant ; 
2dly,  we  have  religion  objectively  considered,  that  is,  the  history  of 
its  various  developments  in  the  world  ; 3dly,  we  have  religion  fully 
realized  and  perfected  in  the  eternal  truth  of  the  Christian  doc- 
trines. Nay,  Christianity  itself  falls  under  the  same  law  of  devel- 
opment, for  it  reveals  to  us  the  kingdom  of  the  Father,  or  Chris- 
tianity in  its  pure  conception — the  kingdom  of  the  Son,  or  Chris- 
tianity in  its  objective  development — and  the  kingdom  of  the  Spirit, 
which  is  its  completion,  as  manifested  in  its  spiritual  operation  in 
the  church.  Lastly,  the  lectures  on  the  history  of  philosophy  were 
edited  by  Michelet,  in  1834 — 5,  (3  vols.  8vo.),  and*  the  volume  on 
the  philosophy  of  history,  by  Cans,  in  1837.  In  these  volumes 
Hegel  has  put  forth  all  his  power,  displaying  at  once  his  vast  ac- 
quaintance with  the  history  of  thought  in  the  world,  and  his  great 
capacity  of  reducing  the  phenomena  given  in  history  to  an  organic 
and  systematic  whole.  These  last  lectures  are,  in  fact,  the  crown- 
ing piece  of  his  system,  and,  beside  their  intrinsic  value,  are 
remarkable  as  forming  the  basis  of  the  French  school  of  modern 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


473 


eclecticism,  which,  under  the  impressive  genius  of  Cousin,  has 
achieved  a reputation  in  every  part  of  the  civilized  world. 

Before  we  quit  this,  our  skeleton  sketch  of  the  Hegelian  philoso- 
phy, it  Avill  be  desirable  to  give  our  readers  some  idea  of  its  appli- 
cation to  various  important  questions  of  a religious  nature.  First, 
with  regard  to  the  nature  and  personality  of  God,  Hegel  is  far  from 
departing  so  widely  from  pantheistic  opinions  as  to  admit  a distinct 
personality  out  of  and  apart  from  all  other  finite  personalities. 
With  him  God  is  not  a person,  but  personality  itself,  i.  e.  the  uni- 
versal personality,  which  realizes  itself  in  every  human  conscious- 
ness as  so  many  separate  thoughts  of  one  eternal  mind.  The  idea 
we  form  of  the  absolute  is,  to  Hegel,  the  absolute  itself,  its  essential 
existence  being  synonymous  with  our  conception  of  it.  Apart  from, 
and*out  of  the  world,  therefore,  there  is  no  God ; and  so  also,  apart 
from  the  universal  consciousness  of  man,  there  is  no  Divine  con- 
sciousness or  personality.  God  is,  with  him,  the  whole  process  of 
thought,  combining  in  itself  the  objective  movement  as  seen  in  na- 
ture, with  the  subjective  as  seen  in  logic,  and  fully  realizing  itself 
only  in  the  universal  spirit  of  humanity.  With  regard  to  other 
theological  ideas,  Hegel  strove  to  deduce,  philosophically,  the  main 
features  of  the  evangelical  doctrine.  He  explained  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  by  showing  that  every  movement  of  the  thinking  pro- 
cess is,  in  fact,  a Trinity  in  Unity.  Pure  independent  thought  and 
self-existence  answers  to  the  Father — the  objectifying  of  this  pure 
existence  answers  to  the  ^oyog  nQocpoQixog  the  Son,  God  manifested 
in  the  flesh ; while  the  Spirit  is  that  which  proceedeth  from  the 
Father  and  the  Son,  the  complete  reunion  of  the  two  in  the 
Church.* 

* The  opinions  of  Hegel  on  the  personality  of  God,  have  been  much  contested.  By 
many  it  is  affirmed,  that  in  the  second  edition  of  the  “ Religion  Philosophic,”  the  pas- 
sage is  effected  from  Pantheism  back  to  a proper  Theism.  Michelet  remarks  on  this 
point,  (“  Geschichte,”  Vol.  ii.  p (J46,j  “ The  true  doctrine  of  Hegel  on  the  personality 
of  God,  is  not  that  God  is  a person  in  the  same  sense  that  others  are;  neither  is  he 
simply  substance, — He  is  the  eternal  movement  of  the  universal,  ever  raising  itself  to  a 
subject,  which  first  of  all  in  the  subject  comes  to  objectivity  and  a real  consistence,  and 
accordingly  absorbs  the  subjects  in  its  abstract  individuality.  God  is,  therefore,  with 
Hegel,  not  a persoh,  but  personality  itself,  the  only  true  personality ; whereas  the  sub- 
ject which,  in  opposition  to  the  Divine  substance,  will  become  a particular  person,  is 
evil  (das  Bose),  Because  God  is  the  eternal  personality,  he  has  eternally  allowed  the 
objectifying  of  himself  (nature)  to  flow  from  him.  in  order,  as  spirit,  to  attain  self-con- 
sciousness in  the  Church,  If  this  spirit  is  man,  then  he  is  man  no  longer  individually 
considered,  but  Gad,  which  in  him  has  attained  personality,” 

In  contradistinction  to  this  passage,  I may  give  another  from  Hegel  himself,  (Philoso- 
phie  der  Religion,  Vol.  li.  p.  481.)  The  stand-point  to  which  we  have  arrived  is  the 
Christian,  and  must  be  viewed  by  us  a little  more  closely.  We  have  here  the  idea  of 
God  in  his  entire  freedom  : this  idea  is  identical  with  his  existence  ; existenc"  is  the 
most  empty  abstraction,  and  the  idea  is  not  so  empty  that  it  does  not  contain  this  in 
itself.  We  have  not  to  view  the  being  of  God  in  the  poverty  of  abstraction,  in  its  hare 


474 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Hegel’s  Christology,  again,  agrees  in  the  main  ideas  with  the 
evangelical  doctrine,  except  that  his  attempt  to  deduce  the  whole 
from  philosophical  principles  gives  to  it  a complete  air  of  ration- 
alism. He  views  the  idea  of  redemption  as  the  reunion  of  the 
individualized  spirit  of  man  with  the  Spirit  of  eternal  truth  and 
love.  By  faith  we  become  one  with  God,  forming  a part  of  him- 
self, members  of  his  mystical  body,  as  symbolized  in  the  ordinances 
of  the  Church.  This  view  of  the  Christian  doctrines  has  been  more 
fuller  developed  by  Strauss,  who  has  entirely  denied  a historical 
truth  to  the  New  Testament,  and  made  the  whole  simply  a mytho- 
logical representation  of  great  moral  and  spiritual  ideas.  On  the 
doctrine  of  immortality,  Hegel  has  said  but  little,  and  that  little  by 
no  means  satisfactory.  However  the  depth  and  comprehensive- 
ness of  his  system  may  charm  the  mind  that  loves  to  ratioJIalize 
upon  every  religious  doctrine,  it  can,  assuredly,  give  but  little 
consolation  to  the  heart  that  is  yearning  with  earnest  longings  after 
holiness  and  immortality. 

In  some  other  points,  not  of  a religious  nature,  Hegel  has  given 
us  many  views  of  great  originality.  His  philosophy  of  history  is 
especially  valuable,  as  containing  investigations  into  the  peculiar 
characteristics  of  the  different  ages  of  the  world,  that  throw  great 
light  upon  the  intellectual  progress  of  civilization.  Into  this,  how- 
ever, we  shall  not  enter ; we  have  attempted  to  give  a comprehen- 
sive view  of  his  whole  system,  just  sufficient,  we  trust,  to  guide  the 
student  in  appreciating  the  place  it  occupies  at  the  head  of  the 
idealism  of  the  present  century,  and  must  leave  him,  however 
unsatisfied  with  our  details,  to  follow  them  up  from  the  original 
source.* 

In  reading  the  foregoing  sketch,  it  will  probably  suggest  itself  to 
many  of  our  readers — How  could  a system  of  philosophy  so  strange, 
so  paradoxical,  so  entirely  opposed  to  all  the  ordinary  habits  of 
thinking  common  to  manliind  at  large,  be  seriously  maintained  by 
any  earnest  and  truthful  mind  ? A little  consideration,  however, 
may  tend  to  show  us,  that  his  doctrine  of  absolute  identity  is  not  so 
unnatural  and  extravagant  as  some  might  at  first  imagine.  Really 
speaking,  it  all  turns  upon  two  fundamental  points;  first,  the  unity 
of  contradictories,  or  opposites,  as  the  principle  of  human  knowl- 
edge ; and  secondly,  the  identity  of  being  and  thought. f 

immediacy,  but  we  must  view  being  here,  as  the  being  of  God,  the  material  for  realiz- 
ing the  full  idea  of  God. 

* Note  F.  Appendix. 

t See  Remusat  “ De  la  Philosophie  Allemande,”  p.  cxxii. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


475 


Now,  with  regard  to  the  former  of  these  principles,  there  is,  un- 
doubtedly, a germ  of  truth  in  it,  which  every  one  must  admit. 
What  is  knowledge,  but  the  perception  that  two  different  things 
are  fundamentally  one  ? Take  any  judgment,  any  proposition  you 
choose,  and  you  find  that  it  contains  the  assertion,  that  two  different 
things  form  a unity  or  identity  between  them.  The  subject  and 
predicate  are  the  differences — the  copula  expresses  their  identity. 
In  proportion  as  knowledge  advances,  the  tendency  to  generalize 
becomes  greater  ; differences  become  more  and  more  merged  into 
higher  principles  ; until,  finally,  as  all  theists  admit,  the  universe, 
with  its  infinitely  diversified  phenomena,  is  seen  to  spring  by  some 
process  of  creative  power  from  God,  the  first  cause — the  highest 
unity ; where,  accordingly,  we  have  the  one  and  the  multiple  form- 
ing the  very  basis  of  all  created  existence.  Thus  Hegel’s  doctrine 
of  the  fundamental  unity  of  opposites,  which  has  been  so  often  re- 
proached as  a contradiction  in  terms,  has  its  germ  in  the  common 
sense  and  common  belief  of  humanity.  The  other  principle,  the 
identity  of  being  and  thought,  is,  perhaps,  somewhat  more  abstruse, 
but  still,  it  is  not  so  utterly  baseless  as  some  suppose.  For,  if  all 
finite  existence  can  be  referred,  as  we  have  just  seen,  to  a primitive 
unity ; if  there  is  an  absolute  ground  in  which  all  things  subsist ; 
then  the  phenomenal,  the  finite,  the  so-termed  material,  is  but  mere 
appearance,  the  real  substratum  is  the  infinite  essence.  But  this 
infinite  essence  only  exists  as  it  is  thought;  universal  Being  is  a 
purely  rational  conception,  a necessary  idea ; it  does  not  come  to 
its  full  reality  except  in  the  human  consciousness.  Hence,  the 
real  and  ideal  meet  in  one  ; the  very  essence  of  the  former  consist- 
ing really  in  a process  of  the  latter. 

Admit  then  these  two  fundamental  principles,  and  the  other 
parts  of  the  Hegelian  theory  follow  step  by  step.  The  ideal  and 
the  real  being  one,  thought  and  existence  being  identical,  the  pro- 
cess by  which  thought  is  developed  must  be  the  process  of  the 
whole  of  nature ; the  laws  of  logic  must  be  the  laws  of  the  uni- 
verse ; and  the  dialectic  movement,  or  the  method  by  which  our 
notions  are  eliminated,  is  the  method  by  which  all  things  come 
into  being  and  subsist.  The  rhythm  of  existence  thus  being  found, 
all  that  is  necessary  is  to  apply  it  to  the  construction  of  a complex 
system  of  philosophy,  which  shall  draw  within  its  mighty  grasp  the 
totality  of  the  phenomena  of  man,  of  nature,  and  of  Deity. 

Whilst,  however,  there  are  some  considerations,  which  appear 
to  justify  the  Hegelian  hypothesis,  yet  there  are,  as  it  appears  to 


476 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


US,  insuperable  objections  under  which  it  labors.  First  of  all,  we 
would  ask.  Whence  does  this  process,  this  great  rhythm  of  exist- 
ence proceed  ? Hegel  pretends  to  have  solved  the  whole  secret 
of  being ; to  have  no  realistic  starting  point ; to  begin  with  zero, 
and  deduce  everything.  This  pretension,  however,  is  not  fulfilled. 
The  law  of  existence  is  still  assumed,  still  unaccounted  for ; so  that 
the  huge  fabric  of  philosophy  he  has  erected  upon  it,  however  in- 
genious and  admirable  in  itself,  still  is  equally  dogmatical,  in  its 
ground  principle,  with  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza,  or  the  ordinary 
theism  of  mankind.  In  principle,  it  is  just  as  easy  to  imagine  an 
infinite  Being,  the  God  of  Christianity,  as  the  source  of  all  things, 
as  an  infinite  law.  And  such  a supposition,  we  need  not  say,  is 
infinitely  more  in  consistency  with  the  phenomena  of  the  human 
mind,  and  of  the  structure  of  nature  around  us. 

Secondly,  there  is  a confusion  between  the  logical  or  formal 
processes  of  thinking,  and  the  real  process  of  things  themselves, 
which  can  never  be  reconciled  with  human  experience,  and  never 
gain  the  practical  belief  of  mankind.  The  logical  idea  commencing 
with  nothing,  simply  by  its  own  inward  movement  or  self-unfolding, 
creates  the  universe  ! Of  course  we  may,  in  thought,  begin  with 
the  most  abstract  notion,  and  then  go  on  adding  attribute  to  attri- 
bute, till  we  have  placed  the  whole  concrete  universe  before  us. 
But  this  can  never  be  put  down  as  identical  with  the  process  of 
creation  itself.  A logical  or  universal  whole  is,  speaking  realisti- 
cally, a nonentity  ; whereas  Hegel  makes  it  the  essence  (seyn) 
which  contains  in  it  potentially  the  whole  phenomena  of  being. 

Thirdly,  the  system  of  Hegel  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  re- 
sults of  psychology,  i.  e.  with  the  most  obvious  facts  of  the  human 
consciousness.  Human  freedom  entirely  vanishes  under  its  shadow. 
The  man  is  but  the  mirror  of  the  absolute  ; his  consciousness  must 
ever  roll  onwards  by  the  fixed  law  of  all  being ; his  personality  is 
sunk  in  the  infinite  ; he  can  never  be  aught  but  what  he  really  is. 
Moral  obligation  must  here  perish,  because  freedom  is  annihilated ; 
and  the  law  of  progress  being  fixed,  man  becomes  irresponsible ; 
this  conclusion  is  one  against  which  no  logical  finesse  can  ulti- 
mately save  us.  Either  the  man  (or  the  me)  is  himself  absolute 
and  infinite,  or  he  is  a finite  personality,  having  the  source  of  his 
being  out  of  himself.  To  suppose  the  former,  altogether  contra- 
dicts the  consciousness  of  self,  which  is  that  of  a finite  power  ca- 
pable of  being  resisted.  If  he  is  the  latter,  then  there  is  that  in 
being  which  does  not  pass  through  our  own  individual  thoughts. 


THE  GERMA^  SCHOOL. 


477 


and  beyond  the  logical  process  there  is  a something  absolutely 
unknown.* 

Finally.  In  the  Hegelian  system,  Theism,  with  all  its  mighty 
influence  on  the  human  mind,  is  compromised  ; for  Deity  is  a pro- 
cess ever  going  on,  but  never  accomplished  ; nay,  the  Divine  con- 
sciousness is  absolutely  one  with  the  advancing  consciousness  of 
mankind.  This  being  the  case,  the  hope  of  immortality  likewise 
perishes,  for  death  is  but  the  return  of  the  individual  to  the  infinite, 
and  man  is  annihilated,  though  the  Deity  will  eternally  live.  Re- 
ligion, if  not  destroyed  by  the  Hegelian  philosophy,  is  absorbed  in 
it,  and,  as  religion,  forever  disappears.! 

Hegel  died  in  the  full  blush  of  his  reputation,  and  before  he  had 
published  half  the  views,  which  he  had  matured,  beyond  the  walls 
of  the  lecture-room.  At  his  death  seven  of  his  most  distinguished 
pupils  combined,  according  to  his  own  wish,  to  publish  his  lectures, 
collated  at  once  from  his  own  manuscripts,  and  from  the  notes  they 
had  themselves  taken  of  them  as  orally  delivered.  The  names  of 
these  seven  are  Marheineke,  Schulz,  Gans,  von  Henning,  Hotho, 
Michelet,  and  Forster.  Under  their  superintendence,  an  edition 
of  his  works  has  now  been  completed,  which  is  regarded  as  the 
last  and  authoritative  view  of  his  whole  system.  J Not  only,  how- 
ever, have  Hegel’s  pupils  done  justice  to  the  memoiy  of  their  mas- 
ter by  the  publication  of  his  works  and  remains,  but,  forming  them- 
selves into  a school,  they  have  at  once  defended  his  doctrines 
against  the  numerous  attacks  which  they  have  had  to  sustain,  and 
applied  them  vigorously  to  the  diflerent  branches  of  theology,  law, 
history,  and  science.  Amongst  these  Henning  and  Schulz§  have 
further  elaborated  his  views  on  natural  philosophy ; Gans  on  juris- 


♦ M.  Remusat  has  employed  this  argument  with  great  force  against  the  Hegelian 
method.  “ De  la  Phil.  Allem.”  p.  cxl. 

f Among  the  modern  French  writers,  there  are  many  elucidations  of  Hegelianism. 
.Among  these,  M.  C.  Renouvier  (Manuel  de  la  Moderne,)  has  pronounced  the  method 
valid  ; Dr.  Ott,  on  the  contrary,  in  his  work  upon  Hegel,  takes  throughout  the  part  of 
a bitter  and  uncompromising  opponent.  Many  of  his  arguments,  however,  are  well 
worth  considering. 

J This  edition  consists  of  17  vols.  8vo.  Vol.  i.  contains  the  “ Philosophical  Treatises,” 
edited  by  Blichelet : vol.ii.  The  “ Phtenomenologie,”  by  Schulz : vols.iii.  iv.  andv.  contain 
the  “ Logik,”  edited  by  von  Henning ; vols.  vi.  and  vii.  the  “ Encyclopsedia  of  Sciences,” 
by  von  Henning,  (which  contain  the  “ Logik”  in  a much  briefer  and  better  form) : vol. 
viii.  “ The  Principles  of  the  Philosophy  of  Right,”  by  Gans:  vol.  ix.  The  Lectures  on 
the  Philosophy  of  History,”  by  Gans:  vol.  x.  The  ‘‘  Lectures  on  .Esthetics,”  (two  first 
parts)  by  von  Hotho : vols.  xi.  and  xii.  The  “ Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,”  by 
Marheineke  : vols.  xiii.  xiv.  and  xv.  The  “ Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,”  by 
Michelet : vols.  xvi.  and  xvii.  The  “ Miscellaneous  Writings,”  by  Forster  and  Boumann ; 
to  which  a “ Life  of  Hegel”  has  since  been  added  by  Rosenkranz. 

^ “ Grundriss  der  Physiologie,"  von  C.  H.  Schulz. 


478 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


prudence  ;*  Michelet,  on  morals  Weisse,J  Rotscher  and  Hotho, 
on  lEstlietics  ; and  Werder,  on  logic  ;§  whilst  in  theology,  a host  of 
writers  have  sprung  forth  to  wield  the  Hegelian  weapons,  and  con- 
tend on  every  side  for  a religion  of  complete  Rationalism. 

It  is  in  the  department  of  theology,  chiefly,  that  the  great  battle 
of  Hegelianism  has  been,  and  is  still  being  fought.  Within  the 
last  ten  years,  indeed,  philosophy  and  theology  in  Germany  seem 
to  have  become  almost  synonymous ; the  transcendent  importance 
of  the  great  fundamental  principles  of  man’s  religious  belief  ab- 
sorbing almost  every  other  purely  philosophical  question.  Inca- 
pable, however,  of  coming  to  a united  understanding  upon  these 
topics,  the  Hegelian  school  has  separated  into  three  divisions,  each 
regarding  the  nature  of  religious  truth  in  a different  point  of  view. 
To  explain  the  variations  of  these  three  parties,  we  must  observe, 
that  there  are  two  inward  sources  from  which  religious  truth  may 
be  supposed  to  spring ; the  one  is  the  direct  intuition  of  our  relig- 
ious nature,  excited  either  by  faith  or  experience  ; the  other  is  pure 
logical  reasoning ; and  it  is  according  to  the  predominance  of  one 
of  these  sources  over  the  other,  that  Hegelianism  takes  its  lower  or 
its  higher  pantheistic  signification. 

To  illustrate  this  point,  let  us  take  the  subject  of  music.  The 
knowledge  of  music  may  be  possessed  in  two  different  ways.  It 
may  be  known  by  virtue  of  a fine  musical  sensibility ; or  it  may 
be  known  as  a rigid  science  of  time  and  intervals,  quite  indepen- 
dently of  the  aesthetic  faculty.  In  the  former  case  we  should  say,  ’ 
we  understand  music  by  virtue  of  our  direct  perception,  or  intui- 
tion of  its  nature  and  beauty ; in  the  latter  case,  we  know  it  as  the 
development  of  scientific  ideas.  Now,  just  so  is  it  with  religion. 
There  is  such  a thing  as  a religious  sensibility,  or  a religious  per- 
ception, which  looks  at  once  upon  the  object  of  the  religious  affec- 
tions, and  derives  a kind  of  intuitive  knowledge  of  them  ; but  there 
is  also,  says  the  rationalist,  a science  of  theology,  in  which  the 
whole  mass  of  our  religious  ideas  are  evolved  by  logical  inference 
from  fundamental  and  philosophical  principles.  Just  in  the  same 
manner,  then,  as  some  might  lay  greater  stress  upon  the  musical 
sensibility,  and  others  on  the  musical  science,  so  also  do  some  of 
the  Hegelian  philosophers  appeal  more  to  the  religious  intuition, 

* “ Das  Erbrecht  in  Weltgeschichtlicher  Entwickelung,”  “ System  des  Romischen 
Civilrechts.”  “ Ruckblicke  auf  Personen  und  Zustiinde,”  &c. 

f “ Sy.stem  der  Pliilosophischen  Moral.”  (1828.) 

t “ Sytem  der  .lEsthetick  als  Wissenschaft  von  der  Idee  der  Schonheit.” 

\ “ Eogikals  Commentar  und  Erganzung  zuHegels  Wissenschaft  der  Logik.”  (Ber- 
lin, 1841.) 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


479 


and  others  to  the  evolution  of  religious  truth,  by  the  logical 
idea.* 

The  first,  and  least  rationalistic  branch  of  the  Hegelian  school, 
is  that  which  is  represented  by  Goschel,  Erdmann,  Gabler,  and 
Schaller.  According  to  the  view  of  these  writers,  our  religious 
perception  must  be  respected  as  well  as  the  power  we  possess  of 
drawing  logical  inferences.  That  it  is  possible  to  deduce  ration- 
ally the  whole  sum  and  substance  of  theological  truth,  they  freely 
admit,  (otherwise  they  could  not  take  their  station  among  the  ra- 
tionalists,) but  in  every  case,  they  affirm,  our  religious  conscious- 
ness must  be  consulted,  to  confirm  and  approve  the  inferences  of 
our  reason.  Hence,  on  the  ground  of  this  consciousness,  they 
assert  the  full  personality  of  the  Deity,  and  likewise  defend  histori- 
cally the  literal  views  given  by  the  Scriptures  of  the  person  of 
Christ,  as  the  God-man — the  Mediator  between  the  human  and  the 
Divine.  These  opinions,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe,  very 
much  accorded  with  those  of  Hegel  himself,  who  ever  professed 
his  belief  in  the  ordinary  faith  of  the  Lutheran  Church. 

There  is,  however,  a considerable  difference  in  the  views  even 
of  this  branch  of  the  Hegelian  school.  Goschel  is  by  far  the  least 
rationalistic  of  the  whole  ; in  fact,  he  goes  almost  as  far  as  Hin- 
richs,  in  affirming,  that  our  religious  perceptions  are  the  main 
thing,  and  that  philosophy  is  only  of  use  in  illustrating  and  con- 
firming them.  Gabler,  Erdmann,  and  Schaller  are  in  a purer  sense 
of  the  word  Hegelians  ; but  instead  of  rejecting  the  natural  relig- 
ious perceptions  as  untrustworthy,  they  accept  them  in  their  full 
significancy,  but  attempt  to  assimilate  them,  by  the  logical  process, 
so  as  to  assume  the  matter  and  form  of  their  philosophy. f 

The  second  branch  of  the  Hegelian  school,  at  once  the  most 
numerous  and  influential,  is  represented  mainly  by  Rosenkranz, 
Marheineke,  Vatke,  and  Micbelet.  By  these  writers,  the  religious 
perceptions  and  feelings  are  only  appealed  to  as  a secondary  source, 
by  which  we  simply  illustrate  the  results  of  logical  thinking.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  personality  of  God  is  taken  by  them  in  a far  more 
general  and  pantheistic  sense,  as  agreeing  better  with  the  nature 
of  that  dialectic  process  by  which  all  theological,  as  well  as  other 
ideas,  are  developed.  The  doctrine,  again,  respecting  Christ,  his 

* The  affirmation  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  elements  as  supreme,  forms  the  twofold 
distinction  of  philosophers,  which  has  become  so  celebrated  in  Germany,  under  the 
titles  of  Denkphilosophen  and  Glaubensphilosophen. 

t They  seek,  says  Michelet,  “ Das  Glaubensresultat  durch  den  dialektischen  Process 
zu  verdauen,  und  ihr  eine  berechtigte  Stelle  im  Systeme  anzuweisen.” — Entwickelungs- 
geschichte,  p.  313. 


480 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


union  with  human  nature,  and  his  redemption  of  the  world,  is 
taken  from  its  plain  historical  meaning,  and  made  to  represent 
general  ideas,  such  as  the  reunion  of  the  fallen  and  separated  will 
of  man,  with  the  infinite  reason — the  soul  of  the  world ; while  the 
immortality  of  the  mind  is  made  to  refer,  not  so  much  to  the  dura- 
tion of  our  personality,  as  to  the  general  perpetuity  of  thought,  of 
which  our  minds  are  but  individual  movements. 

With  regard  to  the  more  individual  shadings  of  this  branch  of 
the  Hegelian  school,  Rosenkranz  stands  nearest  to  those  before 
mentioned,  forming,  as  it  were,  the  transition  point  between  the 
two.  With  him,  it  seems  a matter  of  hesitation,  whether  he  shall 
assume  the  religious  perceptions  to  be  unexceptionahly  valid,  and 
then  seek  to  reduce  them  to  a philosophical  form,  or  whether  he 
shall  give  to  his  logical  procedures  a more  independent  permission 
to  eliminate  their  own  results.  Next  to  Rosenkranz,  comes  the 
celebrated  theologian  Marheineke  ; while  Vatke  and  Michelet  as- 
sume a still  more  rationalistic  position — one,  namely,  in  which  the 
results  of  faith  and  reason  are  absolutely  identified,  and  the  relig- 
ious perceptions  made  one  with  the  logical  results.* 

Up  to  this  point,  then,  in  the  Hegelian  school,  religious  con- 
sciousness and  the  deductions  of  reason  had  gone  hand  in  hand, 
only  with  a varying  preponderance  of  importance  attached  either 
to  the  one  side  or  the  other ; but  in  the  third  and  newest  Hegelian 
party  there  is  a complete  breach  formed  between  the  two,  it  being 
formally  declared  that  we  have  to  follow  the  dictates  of  our  reason, 
to  whatever  extent  they  may  contradict  the  dictates  of  our  religious 
perceptions  and  instincts.  The  representatives  of  this  school  are 
Strauss,  Bruno,  Bauer,  Conradi,  and  Feuerbach.  With  them,  pan- 
theism attains  the  point  at  which  it  ever  tends,  that,  namely,  in 
which  it  becomes  fully  synonymous  with  atheism.  In  their  system, 
no  God  is  admitted  to  exist,  out  of  and  apart  from  the  world ; i.  e. 
in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  there  is  no  God  at  all.  With  ref- 
erence, moreover,  to  the  New  Testament,  it  is  well  known  that 
these  writers  have  rationalized  upon  it  to  the  furthest  possible  ex- 
tent, regarding  the  whole  of  the  historical  portion  as  a designed  my- 
thology, in  which  are  conveyed  to  us  great  and  immortal  truths. 

Thus,  then,  is  the  cycle  of  Hegelianism  completed  ; and  to  make 
the  best  of  these  divisions,  it  is  asserted  by  some,  that  the  three 
oranches  above  mentioned  (usually  termed  the  right  hand,  the  cen- 
^e,  and  the  left),  exhibit  the  threefold  movement  of  the  dialectic 

♦ See  Michelet’s  “ Entwickelungsgeschichte,”  (1843,)  lecture  15. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


481 


process,  and  thus  form  in  their  combination  the  integrity  of  the 
whole  school.* 

Since  Hegel’s  death,  the  conflict  between  the  Hegelian  school 
and  their  opponents,  (especially  with  Schelling,  and  those  who  ad- 
here to  his  doctrine,)  has  gone  on  with  unmitigated  vigor,  and  even 
rancor.  Up  to  the  present  hour,  work  after  work  is  teeming  from 
the  press,  in  which  the  respective  claims  of  these  great  absorbing 
systems  are  advocated  ; whilst  on  theological  grounds  they  are 
both  alike  attacked  by  the  more  orthodox,  with  all  the  weapons  of 
learning  and  eloquence. 

To  enter  into  this  endless  discussion  would  be  altogether  imprac- 
ticable in  the  present  sketch,  and  perhaps  equally  uninteresting  to  the 
majority  of  our  readers.  The  general  feeling  amongst  all,  except 
those  who  are  pledged  almost  to  the  very  words  of  the  master,  is, 
ihsii  Hegelianism  proper  is  on  the  wane.  The  idealistic  movement 
found  in  it,  its  culminating  point ; that  point  is  now  passed,  and  a 
tendency  is  already  manifesting  itself  in  the  general  tone  of  phi- 
losophy, to  come  back  to  a more  realistic  system,  in  which  matter 
and  form  shall  not  be  confounded,  or  the  divine  personality  denied, 
or  the  foundation  of  man’s  immortality  undermined. 

Mournful  as  are  l\\%  final  results  of  the  sweeping  rationalism  we 
have  detailed,  the  works  to  which  it  has  given  rise  have  tended  to 
throw  light,  perhaps  to  an  unprecedented  degree,  upon  many  of  the 
most  important  points  connected  with  the  philosophy  of  matter  and 
of  mind,  of  human  nature,  and  human  destiny ; neither  shall  we 
have  to  regret  the  whole  rationalistic  movement,  if  the  atmosphere 
of  truth  is  cleared  by  the  storm  that  sweeps  across  it — if  errors  are 
carried  away  in  its  course,  and  the  great  foundations  of  man’s  be- 
lief left  standing  more  visible  and  more  certain  than  ever. 


* We  may  take  the  following  passage,  from  Michelet’s  summer  course  of  1842,  as  a 
summary  of  the  whole  view  here  given  of  the  present  position  of  the  Hegelian  school : — 
“ The  unfolded  totahty  of  the  Hegelian  school  may  be  pictured  in  a brief  compend. 
With  the  pseudo-Hegelians  (Fichte,  jun.,  Weisse,  Branis,  &c.,j  perception,  under  the 
form  of  faith  or  experience,  is  the  sole  source  of  positive  religious  truth.  On  the  ex- 
treme right  of  the  Hegelian  school,  perception,  (as  with  Hinrichs,)  is  the  absolute  cri- 
terion of  the  results  found  by  means  of  logical  thinking ; while  Goschel  gives  it  still  a 
decisive  voice  in  all  religious  affairs.  Schaller,  Erdmann,  and  Gabler,  who  form  the 
pure  right  side,  allow  to  religious  perception  a consultative  vote,  which,  however,  like  a 
good  ruler  with  his  subjects,  they  never  leave  unrespected.  Rosenkranz,  who  ushers  in 
the  centre,  proceeds  for  the  most  part  in  accordance  with  the  voice  of  perception,  but  in 
some  cases  rejects  it.  In  Marheineke,  the  perception  is  the  witness,  who  can  only  speak 
respecting  the  fact,  while  the  question  of  lav?  or  right  can  only  be  decided  by  specula- 
tive thinking.  On  the  left  of  the  centre,  (that  taken  by  Vatke,  Snellmann,  and  Mi- 
chelet,) the  perception  is  a true-hearted  servant,  who  must  subject  herself  obediently  to 
reason  as  mistress.  Strauss,  on  the  left  side,  makes  her  a slave,  while  with  Feuerbach 
and  Bauer  she  appears  verily  as  a paria." 

31 


483 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


If  the  reader  will  turn  back  to  the  commencement  of  this  section, 
he  will  be  able  to  refresh  his  memory  respecting  the  twofold  course 
which  philosophy  has  taken  in  Germany  since  the  time  of  Kant. 
In  his  system,  as  we  then  remarked,  there  is  on  the  one  hand,  an 
idealistic,  on  the  other,  a realistic  element.  There  is  a real  exist- 
ence given  in  sensation,  but  yet  all  we  know  of  it  is  bare  phe- 
nomenon. The  course  in  which  the  idealistic  side  of  Kant’s 
philosophy  has  flowed,  we  have  now  pointed  out.  We  have  seen 
the  speculative  method,  as  the  modern  idealism  is  sometimes 
termed,  in  its  subjective  movement,  completely  realized  in  Fichte: 
we  have  seen  its  objective  movement  set  forth  with  great  copiousness 
by  Schelling : and  we  have  seen  it  rising  beyond  both,  up  to  its 
most  abstract  form,  in  Hegel.  In  Fichte,  the  Absolute  is  to  every 
one  bis  own  individual  self,  beyond  the  powers  and  perceptions  of 
which  self,  he  shows,  we  are  utterly  unable  to  reach  : in  Schelling, 
the  Absolute  is  the  living  soul  of  the  universe,  of  which  everything, 
both  in  the  natural  and  mental  world,  is  an  expansion  : in  Hegel, 
the  last  realistic  point  is  resolved  ; the  Absolute  becomes  a process, 
ever  unfolding  and  renewing  itself  in  the  world,  and  that,  too,  iden- 
tical with  the  process  of  thought — with  the  method  of  philosophy. 
Here  we  have  idealism  reaching  its  culminating  point,  the  matter 
of  our  knowledge  becoming  synonymous  with  the  form  : thought 
one  with  existence. 

Having  traced  the  ideal  side,  therefore,  up  to  this  position,  and 
witnessed  its  culmination,  we  leave  it  to  futurity  to  mark  its  de- 
scent, and  turn  now  to  the  realistic  philosophy,  which  has  orig- 
inated from  the  Kantian  principles.  The  immediate  elaborator 
of  this  element  was  unquestionably  Jacobi,  whom,  on  chronolog- 
ical grounds,  we  ought  now  to  have  taken  under  review,  but  that 
his  mystical  tendency  removes  his  system  onward  to  a future 
chapter.  There  is  one  name,  however,  which  stands  forth  with 
great  prominence  among  the  philosophers  of  the  present  age,  who, 
though  an  idealist,  has,  almost  single-handed,  stemmed  the  torrent 
of  ultra-idealism,  and  acquired  a reputation,  second  only  to  the 
heads  of  those  great  systems,  which  we  have  already  considered. 
The  name  to  which  I refer  is  that  of  Herbart. 

John  Frederick  Herbart  Was  born  in  the  year  1776,  at  Olden- 
burg. In  1805,  he  became  professor  of  philosophy  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Gottingen ; in  1808,  he  succeeded  Kant  at  Konigsberg ; 
and  in  1833,  returned  to  Gottingen,  in  order  to  supply  the  place 
of  Schulz,  where,  in  the  summer  of  1841,  he  died. 


THE  GSSMAN  SCHOOL. 


483 


Herbart’s  philosophy  was  the  reaction  produced  by  the  boldh’-- 
advancing  idealism  of  Fichte  and  Schelling.  Their  extreme  prin- 
ciples on  the  ideal  side  threw  him  back  upon  a completely  realistic 
hypothesis,  which,  for  many  years,  he  sustained  single-handed, 
with  a patience  and  a logical  ability  that  reflected  the  highest 
credit  upon  his  talents  and  perseverance.  In  terming  Herbart, 
however,  a realist,  we  are  not  to  suppose  that  he  returned  to  the 
ordinary  notion  of  matter,  as  being  a hard,  dull,  impenetrable  sub- 
stance, that  is  perceived  immediately  by  the  aid  of  sensation. 
This  position  (that  of  common  sense)  he  never  admitted  ; on  the 
contrary,  he  asserted,  that  we  can  never  get  beyond  our  own  con- 
sciousness, but  that  all  we  can  know  immediately  are  the  phenom- 
ena which  take  place  there.  From  this  principle,  however,  he 
drew  a different  conclusion  from  that  of  Fichte.  Fichte  asserted 
that  the  idea  which  actually  passes  through  the  mind  is  synony- 
mous with  its  objective  meaning : Herbart  showed  that  the  idea 
(the  actual  inward  process)  is  one  thing,  and  that  the  reality  which 
is  implied  in  it  is  another.  We  have,  for  example,  the  idea  of 
matter  ; and  as,  of  course,  we  know  nothing  of  it  which  is  not 
contained  in  our  idea,  Fichte  concluded  that,  to  us,  matter,  and 
the  idea  of  matter,  are  the  same.  On  the  other  hand,  Herbart 
showed  that  the  idea  is  simply  the  mental  or  subjective  phenom- 
enon, and  that  this  phenomenon  implies  an  objective  reality,  of  the 
truth  of  which  it  is  at  once  the  voucher  and  the  test.  It  is  true 
that  our  ordinary  perceptions  involve,  in  many  instances,  the  most 
palpable  contradictions  ; and  the  consequence  is,  that  some  think- 
ers have  lost  all  confidence  in  man’s  intellectual  powers  ; while 
others  have  denied  the  reality  of  the  objects  themselves ; but  the 
proper  course  of  philosophy  is  manfully  to  solve  the  difficulty,  in- 
stead of  falling  into  scepticism  on  the  one  hand,  or  pui'e  idealism 
on  the  other.* 

The  basis  of  all  philosophy,  then,  according  to  Herbart,  is 
the  whole  sum  of  the  phenomena  which  pass  through  the  human 
mind.  Instead  of  laying  down  the  existence  of  an  absolute  essence, 
from  which  all  things  are  derived,  he  regarded  the  whole  mass  of 
our  ordinary  convictions  as  containing  the  matter,  from  which 
alone  we  must  take  our  start  in  erecting  a system  of  philosophy. 
That  we  have  a mass  of  ideas,  which  are  naturally  formed  in  the 
mind  by  its  own  constitution,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  it  is 
placed,  none  can  deny : these  ideas,  then,  we  must  detain,  ex- 
* See  the  preface  to  his  “ Psychologie.” 


484 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


amine,  elaborate  ; and,  if  truth  can  be  arrived  at  by  man  at  all,  it 
must  be  arrived  at  by  this  process.  Herbart’s  notion,  therefore, 
of  philosophy  was  very  simple  ; it  was  an  analysis  and  investiga- 
tion of  our  ideas,  so  as  to  resolve  any  contradictions  they  may 
seem  to  imply,  and  to  educe  from  them  all  the  truth  which  they 
contain.* 

The  process  by  which  the  necessity  of  philosophy  comes  to  be 
felt  is  the  following  : — When  we  look  round  us  upon  the  world  in 
which  we  live,  our  knowledge  commences  by  a perception  of  the 
various  objects  that  present  themselves  on  every  hand  to  our  view. 
What  we  immediately  perceive,  however,  is  not  actual  essence, 
but  phenomena  ; and  after  a short  time,  we  discover  that  many  of 
those  phenomena  are  unreal ; that  they  do  not  portray  to  us  the 
actual  truth  of  things  as  they  are  ; and  that  if  we  followed  them 
implicitly,  we  should  soon  be  landed  in  the  midst  of  error  and  con- 
tradiction. For  example,  what  we  are  immediately  conscious  of 
in  coming  into  contact  with  the  external  world,  are  such  appear- 
ances as  green,  blue,  bitter,  sour,  extension,  resistance,  &c.  These 
phenomena,  upon  reflection,  we  discover  not  to  be  so  many  real 
independent  existences,  but  properties  inhering  in  certain  sub- 
stances, which  we  term  things.  Again,  when  we  examine  further 
into  these  substances,  we  discover  that  they  are  not  real  ultimate 
essences,  but  that  they  consist  of  certain  elements,  by  the  combi- 
nation of  which  they  are  produced.  What  we  term  the  reality, 
therefore,  is  not  the  thing  as  a whole,  but  the  elements  of  which  it 
is  composed.  Thus  the  further  we  analyze,  the  further  does  the 
idea  of  reality  recede  backwards  ; but  still  it  must  always  be 
somewhere,  otherwise  we  should  be  perceiving  a nonentity.  The 
last  result  of  the  analysis  is  the  conception  of  an  absolute  simple 
element,  which  lies  as  the  basis  of  all  phenomena,  in  the  material 
world,  and  which  we  view  as  the  essence  that  assumes  the  differ- 
ent properties  which  come  before  us  in  sensation.  Experience, 
then,  on  the  one  hand,  gives  us  a vast  number  of  phenomena, 
which  appear  to  be  so  many  actually  existing  realities  ; reason, 
on  the  other  hand,  obliges  us  to  reject  these  prenomena  as  realities, 
and  assign  a simple  element  for  the  basis  of  them,  as  that  which  is 
alone  essentially  true.  Here,  then,  arises  a contradiction  between 
reason  and  experience ; and  as  we  cannot  fall  back  upon  scepti- 
cism without  being  involved  in  a still  greater  difficulty,  we  look  to 
philosophy  so  to  elaborate  and  interpret  our  ideas,  both  those  of 

* Letirbach  zur  Einleitung  in  die  Philosophie.  See  at  the  commencement. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


485 


experience  and  of  reason,  as  to  solve  the  contradictions,  and  to 
give  us  a clear  insight  into  the  truth.  The  philosophy  which  ac- 
complishes this  object  is  termed  Metaphysics.* 

Now,  in  order  to  see  what  branches  the  science  of  metaphysics 
contains,  we  must  consider  how  many  fundamental  ideas  there  are, 
to  which  our  ordinary  perceptions  may  be  generalized.  From  the 
first  moment  we  perceive  objects  around  us,  be  begin  to  classify 
them,  and  express  the  classification  by  general  terms ; this  process 
goes  on  until  we  come  to  the  three  fundamental  notions  of  thing, 
matter,  mind;  the  first  being  the  notion  of  a unity  with  several 
properties ; the  second  being  that  of  an  object  existing  in  space ; 
the  third  designating  that  which  has  self-consciousness.  All  these 
three  notions  give  rise  to  contradictions  in  the  following  manner. 

First,  if  we  contemplate  a thing,  as  e.  g.  a piece  of  gold,  we  ob- 
serve that  it  is  yellow,  heavy,  malleable,  &c.  And  all  these  prop- 
erties together  go  to  make  up  the  unity  which  we  term  gold.  If 
one  of  these  properties  were  taken  away,  it  would  be  gold  no 
longer ; and  if  they  were  all  taken  away,  nothing  whatever  would 
remain  to  our  perception ; so  that  here  we  come  to  the  contradic- 
tion, that  the  unity  is  in  fact  a plurality.  Secondly,  if  we  contem- 
plate the  notion  of  matter,  we  perceive  that  it  is  that  which  fills  a 
certain  space,  while  at  the  same  time  it  consists  of  atoms  infinitely 
divisible ; and  which,  therefore,  in  their  ultimate  form  can  fill  no 
space  at  all.  Here,  then,jjs  another  seeming  contradiction,  viz., 
that  atoms,  ultimately  immaterial  or  having  no  extension,  should 
give  rise  to  extended  and  solid  substance.  Thirdly,  if  we  contem- 
plate the  mind,  we  find  that  it  is  at  the  same  time  in  continual 
change  or  perpetual  movement,  and  yet  is  ever  the  same  unalter- 
able personality.  Now  these  three  fundamental  ideas,  each  giving 
rise  to  a separate  contradiction,  point  us  to  three  branches  of  meta- 
physics. The  first  is  ontology,  which  in  Herbart’s  sense  means  the 
science  that  treats  of  the  nature  and  constitution  of  things  in  gen- 
eral, and  more  especially  the  explanation  of  the  problem — “ how 
can  the  one  be  a multiple,  and  the  multiple  a unity  ?”  The  second 
branch  is  synechology  (from  aw  and  which  is  the  doctrine  of 
matter,  or  the  phenomena  of  the  real  as  existing  in  time,  space,  and 
motion.  The  third  branch  is  termed  eidolology  (from  etJwioy), 
which  means  the  doctrine  of  ideas  or  images,  and  includes  psy- 
chology, or  the  science  of  mental  phenomena.! 

* For  a clear  and  full  statement  of  Herbart’s  philosophical  stand-point,  see  Chaly- 
baus’  “ Entwickelung,”  lect.  iv. 

■(■  Consult  the  “ Haupt-punkte  der  Metaphjsik.” 


486 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


I.  Of  Ontology.  The  great  problem  here  to  be  solved  is,  to  show 
how  different  predicates  can  exist  in  one  substance  ; and  conversely, 
how  one  simple  substance  can  exhibit  a plurality  of  predicates. 
This  problem  is  explained  through  the  medium  of  a principle  which 
is  termed  by  Herbart  the  method  of  relations.  The  principle  is 
briefly  as  follows  : — Instead  of  supposing  a thing  to  be  composed 
of  one  absolutely  simple  essence,  we  must  suppose  it  to  be  com- 
posed of  many,  all  independent  of  each  other ; and  it  is  the  differ- 
ent relations  in  which  they  stand  to  each  other,  that  give  the  ap- 
pearance of  many  predicates  existing  in  one  subject.  Just  as  a 
binary  star  appears  one  to  the  naked  eye,  but  is  seen  to  consist  of 
two  by  the  medium  of  the  telescope,  so  an  object  in  nature,  i.  e.  a 
thing,  appears  to  be  one,  but  by  means  of  philosophy  is  discovered 
to  be  manifold.  The  separate  and  independent  essences  of  which 
all  things  are  composed  ever  remain  absolutely  the  same,  as  they 
are  entirely  self-sustained;  but  when  viewed  indifferent  lights,  and 
from  different  points  of  view  in  relation  to  each  other,  then  they 
exhibit  a multitude  of  different  characteristics. 

To  show  how  this  principle  accounts  for  the  phenomena  in  ques- 
tion, Herbart  explains  very  fully  his  doctrine  of  accidental  views 
(Zufallige  Ansichten).  In  mathematics,  we  know  that  one  and  the 
same  line  may  be  often  viewed  either  as  sine,  or  tangent,  or  radius 
of  a circle,  without  its  ceasing  to  be  a straight  line,  and  the  same 
straight  line.  In  music,  again,  a tone  may  be  a fourth,  fifth,  or 
sixth,  &c.,  according  to  the  key  in  which  we  are  playing  ; so  also 
here  the  same  essences  may  remain  the  same,  and  yet  appear  dif- 
ferent, according  to  the  relation  in  which  we  view  them.  On  this 
principle,  then,  Herbart  seeks  to  explain  the  contradiction  which 
lies  at  the  basis  of  ontology ; i.  e.  to  show  that  in  different  lights 
the  same  object  may  be  both  a unity  and  a plurality  at  the  same 
time.* 

II.  Synechology.  The  object  of  this  branch  of  metaphysics  is 
to  give  an  intelligible  explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  matter  ; to 
show  how  things  exist  or  hold  together  in  space  ; and  thus  to  solve 
the  contradiction  of  infinite  divisibility.  To  accomplish  this  pur- 
pose, Herbart  first  attacked  and  refuted  Kant’s  theory  of  time  and 
space,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  makes  them  simply  the  subjective 
laws  or  forms,  under  which  all  sensation  is  carried  on.  Instead  of 
this,  he  showed  that  the  notions  of  time,  space,  and  motion,  express 
certain  relations  in  which  objects  stand  to  each  other.  Now  the 

* “ Haupt-punkte  der  Metaphysik,”  p.  10,  et  seq. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


487 


idea  of  extension,  as  applied  to  matter,  is  the  direct  result  of  the 
idea  of  space  ; whatever,  therefore,  will  explain  the  notion  of  space, 
will  also  explain  that  of  extension. 

Herbart’s  doctrine  *of  intelligible  space,  by  which  he  sought  to 
elucidate  these  points,  is  in  brief  somewhat  of  the  following  nature  : 
— He  begins  with  viewing  each  ultimate  monad  as  a mathematical 
point,  thus  expressing  the  negation  of  all  extension  with  reference 
to  them  in  their  primary  form.  One  mathematical  point,  as  also 
one  monad,  expresses  simply  locality,  and  no  space  whatever  ; if, 
however,  we  add  another  point  to  it,  and  then  another  to  that,  in 
the  same  direction,  we  get  the  idea  of  a line,  which  is  the  first  di- 
mension. By  the  addition  of  other  points  we  are  led  in  the  same 
way  to  fill  up  the  intervals  by  the  notion  of  distance,  and  thus  at 
length  to  complete  the  idea  of  space  in  all  its  three  dimensions. 
Space,  then,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  monads  singly,  and  can  in 
no  sense  of  the  word  be  attached  to  them  ; but  no  sooner  do  we 
see  them  in  relation  to  each  other,  than  the  idea  of  continuity,  of 
space,  of  extension,  arises  in  the  mind.  Precisely  the  same  thing 
is  true  both  of  time  and  motion ; so  that,  by  this  same  method  of 
relations  in  another  view  of  it,  the  main  problem  of  synechology  is 
solved  as  well  as  that  of  ontology. 

Matter,  then,  according  to  Herbart,  is  in  the  ordinary  sense  im- 
material, and  without  extension ; but  it  obtains  all  the  primary 
properties,  such  as  extension,  inertia,  &c.,  from  the  relation  which 
the  monads  hold  to  each  other.  Upon  the  same  principle  he  ex- 
plained the  phenomena  of  attraction  and  repulsion,  and,  then,  of 
organization ; by  which  means  he  finds  a transition  from  the  ab- 
stract sciences  of  matter  into  the  philosophy  of  nature,  and  a 
method  of  explaining  the  constitution  of  all  the  varied  portions  of 
the  vegetable  and  animal  world.* 

III.  Eidolology.  In  this  branch  of  metaphysics,  the  principles 
already  deduced  in  the  other  two  branches  are  now  to  be  applied 
to  elucidate  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind,  and  to  show  how 
those  principles  agree  with  our  own  inward  experience.  This  is 
the  part  of  his  philosophy,  which  Herbart  elaborated  with  the 
greatest  assiduity,  and  in  which  he  has  most  displayed,  at  once,  the 
power  and  originality  of  his  genius.  The  mind  we  feel  to  be  one; 
at  the  same  time  it  is  conscious  of  an  ever-changing  multiplicity 
of  states  and  feelings,  which  we  must  show  are  perfectly  con- 

* “ Haupt-punkte  der  Met.,”  p.  18,  et  sea.  Also,  “ Lehrbuch  zur  Einleitinff  in  die 
Phil.”  p.  204. 


488 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


sistent  with  its  unity.  Here,  then,  the  method  of  relations  again 
comes  to  our  assistance,  separating  the  human  consciousness  into 
its  proper  elements,  and  showing  that,  what  could  not  be  pre- 
dicated of  the  individual  parts,  can  be  predicated  of  the  whole,  in 
their  various  relations  to  each  other.  The  mind,  as  subject,  is 
ever  the  same ; but  it  sees  itself,  as  object,  existing  in  numerous 
difierent  states — those,  for  example,  of  feeling,  thinking,  willing, 
&c.,  and  all  these  different  states  we  call  at  the  same  time  one 
self. 

To  account  for  these  different  states,  Herbart  goes  into  a singu- 
lar mechanical  theory  of  consciousness  ; the  idea  of  which  is,  that 
all  mental  phenomena  are  simply  different  relations  in  which  the 
mind  exists  to  other  things.  When  these  relations  are  such  that 
no  particular  point  stands  out  from  the  rest  to  claim  our  attention, 
but  all,  as  it  regards  our  consciousness,  are  in  a state  of  equilibrium, 
we  are  in  a condition  of  mental  quiescence.  When  one  particu- 
lar point  becomes  prominent,  then  it  represses  the  rest,  just  as  a 
greater  force  does  a smaller,  and  a corresponding  state  of  con- 
sciousness is  the  result.  When  there  is  a struggle  for  some  per- 
ception to  become  prominent  over  the  others,  the  state  of  mind  is 
termed  desire.  Feeling  is  the  condition  produced  by  the  obtrusion 
of  a perception  between  two  antagonist  powers.  In  this  way  Her- 
bart explains  all  the  facts  of  consciousness  by  a species  of  mechan- 
ical calculation,  making  them  all  result  simply  from  the  relations 
in  which  the  mind  stands  to  the  different  objects  that  work  upon 
it.*  Having  thus  completed  the  province  of  metaphysics,  properly 
so  termed,  he  calls  in,  at  length,  the  aid  of  faith,  in  order  to  lay  a 
basis  for  the  philosophy  of  religion,  with  which  his  system  con- 
cludes.! 

From  this  slight  view  of  Herbart’s  method,  it  becomes  at  once 
evident,  that  it  stands  in  direct  opposition  to  the  purely  idealistic 
systems  we  have  before  considered.  The  reader,  who  has  looked 
far  into  the  history  of  philosophy,  will  not  be  at  a loss  to  see  the 
affinity  there  is  between  Herbart’s  theory  of  matter  and  that  of 
Boscovich  ; while  the  similarity  of  his  doctrine  of  monads  to  that 
of  Leibnitz,  compels  the  conclusion  that  many  of  his  ideas  must 
have  been  directly  borrowed  from  that  acute  thinker.  That  Her- 
bart has  fully  sustained  his  ground  against  the  energetic  idealism  to 

* This  forms  the  subject  of  his  work  entitled  “ Psychologie  als  Wissenschaft.” 

f “ Lehrbuch,”  p.  213.  Herbart’s  transition  from  theoretical  philosophy  to  faith,  as 
the  ground  of  our  religious  conceptions,  is  nearly  identical  with  that  of  Kant,  from  the 
pure  to  the  practical  reason. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


489 


which  he  stood  opposed,  would  be  too  much  to  grant ; but,  unques- 
tionably, he  brought  to  light  much  truth  on  the  other  side  of  the 
question  ; nor,  perhaps,  have  his  exertions  been  amongst  the  least 
of  the  means,  which  have  succeeded  in  giving  to  the  philosophy  of 
the  present  age  an  incipient,  although  a very  decided  realistic  ten- 
dency.* 


The  names  which  have  passed  under  our  review,  namely,  those 
of  Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel,  and  Herbart,  comprehend,  with  the 
exception  of  the  mystical  school,  almost  all  that  is  really  original  in 
the  German  metaphysics.  There  are  a few  thinkers,  however, 
of  a recent  date,  who  have  attem{)ted  to  mould  the  Hegelian  phi- 
losophy into  a more  satisfactory  form  ; and  a few  others,  who  have 
set  up  some  new  philosophical  principles,  although  they  are  not  of 
sufficient  reputation  to  need  any  very  particular  mention  at  pres- 
ent. The  four  writers  who  are  termed  by  Michelet,  in  his  “ His- 
tory of  German  Philosophy,”  pseudo-Hegelians,  are  Fischer,  Fichte, 
jun.,  Weisse,  and  Branis.  These  authors  all  acknowledge  the  ex- 
cellency of  Hegel’s  method,  and  allow  him  due  honor  for  the  dis- 
covery, but  they  all  agree  with  Schelling,  that  Hegel  has  only 
taken  up  the  negative  side  of  philosophy,  that  his  system  can  only 
afford  the  purely  logical  process  of  thought,  and  that  he  has  not 
succeeded  in  proving,  that  his  categories  express  the  real  essence  of 
existence  as  well  as  the  form.  In  a word,  they  protest  against  the 
absolute  idealism  of  the  Hegelian  system,  and  show  the  path  back 
again  to  a realistic  or  positive  philosophy,  from  whence  the  ma- 
terial is  to  be  obtained,  by  which  the  bare  forms  of  the  categories 
of  thought  may  be  filled  with  a real  and  essential  existence.  With 
regard  to  the  idea  of  God,  moreover,  they  attempt  to  stop  beyond 
the  Hegelian  point  of  view ; to  deduce  his  proper  personality ; 
and  to  explain  the  relation  in  which  he  stands  to  the  world,  as  a 
distinct  entity. 

The  avowed  object  which  Fischer  has  had  in  view,  is  to  take 
the  dialectic  method  of  Hegel  and  the  realistic  philosophy  of 
Schelling  together,  and  evolve  them  to  a higher  unity,  in  which  the 
realism  of  the  one  should  appear  in  all  the  consecutive  and  logical 
form  of  the  other.  Branis,  in  his  “ System  of  Metaphysics,”  ap- 

* Herbart’s  philosophy  was  peculiarly  rich  in  its  practical  applications.  Amongst 
his  other  works  there  is  an  interesting  volume  containing  a “ Kurze  Encyclopddie  der 
Philosophic  aus  praktischen  Gesichts-punkten.”  (Halle,  1831.) 


490 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


peals  mainly  to  the  facts  of  consciousness,  as  the  living  page  in 
which  all  truth  is  to  be  read ; resting  the  ultimate  evidence  of  it, 
entirely  upon  faith  in  our  own  inward  experience.  Weisse  has 
gained  some  reputation  by  the  energy  with  which  he  has  sustained 
against  Hegelianism,  the  accusation  of  having  put  the  abstract 
metaphysical  form  of  truth,  in  the  place  of  its  concrete  reality.* 
The  most  celebrated,  however,  of  this  class  of  authors,  is  J.  H. 
Fichte,  whose  philosophy  presents  on  the  whole  the  most  complete 
specimen  of  the  school  we  are  now  considering,  and  of  which, 
therefore,  we  shall  give  a brief  description. 

Fichte’s  system  follows  a very  consecutive  development,  which 
greatly  facilitates  its  accurate  comprehension.  His  first  purely 
philosophical  work  was  entitled  “ Beitrage  zur  Charakteristik  der 
neuern  Philosophic,”  (Contributions  towards  the  designation  of 
Modern  Philosophy,)  in  which  he  clears  his  ground,  and  gives  a 
popular  view  of  his  philosophical  stand-point.  His  next  work  was 
a preparation  for  his  philosophical  system,  properly  so  called;! 
giving  simply  a general  sketch  of  it  in  the  preface,  but  aiming  at 
a systematic  critique  upon  the  difierent  philosophical  tendencies  of 
the  age.  The  third  volume  (Grundziige  zum  Systeme  der  Philo- 
sophie)  makes  a formal  commencement  of  the  system,  and  carries 
it  on  through  the  whole  of  the  subjective  sphere ; showing  the  de- 
velopment of  self-consciousness  from  the  first  dawning  of  empirical 
knowledge,  up  to  the  highest  form  of  speculative  thinking.  The 
fourth  part,  entitled  Ontology,  effects  the  passage  from  the  subjec- 
tive to  the  objective  sphere,  tracing  the  progi’ess  of  Being  from  its 
most  abstract  to  its  most  full  and  concrete  form  : which,  then,  leads 
to  the  philosophy  of  religion,  by  which  the  whole  cycle  is  com- 
pleted.! 

The  starting  point  of  all  philosophy,  according  to  Fichte,  is  the 
immediate /ac^  of  consciousness.  This  must  be  to  us  absolutely 
the  primitive,  for  any  other  and  more  definite  starting  point  would 
have  to  be  sought  for  by  means  of  those  facts  themselves.  This 
being  the  case,  philosophy  defines  itself  as  the  rejlective  development 
of  what  the  consciousness  originally  contains.  “Self-conscious- 
ness,” he  remarks,  “ is  the  beginning,  middle,  and  end  of  philoso- 
phy : so  that  philosophy  can  be  formally  described  as  the  self-com- 

* The  chief  of  Weisse’s  writings  are  a “ System  der  vEsthetik,”  “ Grundziige  der 
Metaphysik,'’  and  one  entitled  “ Die  Idee  der  Gottheit,” 

t “ Ueber  Gegensatz,  Wendepunkt  und  Ziel  heutiger  Philosophie,”  (Heidelberg, 
1832.) 

X Of  Fichte’s  “ Religion-Philosophie,"  I can  only  speak  from  notes  of  lectures,  which 
1 took  from  him  in  1841,  before  the  work  itself  was  published. 


THE  GERMAN  aCHOOL. 


491 


pletion,  or  self-examination  (selbst-Orientirung)  of  the  conscious- 
ness, respecting  its  original  possession.”* 

First  Epoch  of  Self-consciousness. — The  original  state  of  our  con- 
sciousness is  that  of  sensation  and  perception.  Here  we  are  simply 
within  the  region  of  the  instinctive  intellectual  life.  Whether  we 
regard  the  bare  sensational  feeling,  or  the  immediate  perception 
which  accompanies  it,  we  rise  no  higher  than  the  lower  animals  in 
the  scale  of  intelligence. f 

Second  Epoch  of  Self-consciousness. — Here  we  get  into  the  re- 
gion of  representative  knowledge.  In  the  former  epoch  the  mind 
is  simply  engaged  with  the  material  which  is  actually  presented  to 
it.  Let  that  material  (consisting  of  its  own  affections  and  the  pre- 
sentation of  direct  objects)  be  removed,  and  it  would  sink  back 
into  absolute  unconsciousness.  To  prevent  this,  therefore,  the 
mind  has  the  power  of  retaining  its  ideas,  and  representing  them 
itself  as  objects  of  continued  contemplation.  This  is  primarily 
effected  by  means  of  memory,  carried  on  to  a higher  perfection  by 
the  imagination,  and  completed  by  means  of  language  or  signs.  J 
Third  Epoch  of  Self-consciousness,  (Das  Ich  als  denkendes). — . 
Here  we  get  into  the  region  of  abstract  ideas.  The  constructive 
faculty  begins  to  operate  upon  the  data  of  consciousness,  and  re- 
duces them  into  form  and  order.  The  laws  or  processes  of  thought 
are  given  in  the  science  of  logic.  First,  we  have  a simple  concep- 
tion (Begriff),  which  is  explained  as  a general  representation, 
viewed  in  relation  to  a particular  object,  (Fine  Allgemeine  Vors- 
tellung,  aber  mit  dem  Bewusstseyn,  und  der  Beziehung  auf  ein  in 
ihm  befasstes  Besondere).  Next  we  come  to  the  judgment  (Ur- 
theil),  which  is  the  development  of  the  conception  up  to  a higher 
degree  of  generality  (die  Fortbestimmung  des  Begriffs  durch  sich 
selbst) : and,  lastly,  to  the  inference,  which  is  the  merging  of  the 
more  particular  into  the  pure  categories  of  thought — into  the  high- 
est unities. § 

Fourth  and  highest  Epoch  of  Self-consciousness,  (Das  Ich  als 
erkennendes). — In  the  first  epoch  we  saw  the  bare  material  of  our 
knowledge  afforded  by  sensation  and  perception ; in  the  second 
and  third,  we  have  seen  the  mind  retaining  its  primary  intuitions, 
and  evolving  them  by  the  logical  process  to  their  highest  unity. 
In  the  one  we  have  matter,  in  the  other  form ; but  now,  in  this 
last  sphere  of  self-consciousness,  we  have  the  reality  of  matter  and 

• Grundzuge  zum  Systeme  der  Phil.  p.  16.  f Ibid.  p.  27. 

+ Ibid.  p.  51 — 79. 

^ Gruadziige  zum  Syst.  der  PhU.  p.  80 — ^204. 


492 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


form  combined  together,  in  which  combination  real  scientific 
knowledge  first  shows  itself.  This  highest  region  of  consciousness, 
then,  we  may  describe  as  the  region  of  philosophy/,  and  we  have 
only  to  trace  the  development  of  the  different  philosophical  sys- 
tems, in  order  to  see  the  actual  unfolding  of  the  philosophical 
consciousness.  This  development  has  taken  the  forms  respec- 
tively of  the  empirical,  the  reflective,  and  the  speculative  stand- 
point. 

The  empirical  stand-point  regards  philosophical  truth  as  the 
organic  elaboration  of  the  data  of  our  outward  experience.  It 
comprehends  the  v^hole  sphere  of  observation,  of  induction,  of  anal- 
ogy, of  sensational  philosophy,  and  has  attained  its  highest  expres- 
sion in  the  writings  of  Locke.* 

The  reflective  stand-point  begins  with  scepticism  (Hume) — the 
denial  of  the  certainty  of  experience,  as  employed  in  the  former 
philosophy.  This  leads  on  to  the  critical  form  of  philosophy 
(Kant) ; in  which  the  certainty  of  human  knowledge  is  estab- 
lished, by  a criticism  of  the  subjective  forms  of  thought.  The  crit- 
ical philosophy,  finally,  merges  in  the  doctrine  of  pure  subjective 
idealism  (Fichte) ; which  is  the  negative  side  of  speculative  knowl- 
edge.f 

Lastly,  the  speculative  stand-point  combines  the  empirical  and 
reflective,  and  leads  to  the  very  highest  forms  of  philosophical 
truth.  This  begins,  first,  with  the  pure  faith-philosophy,  a philoso- 
phy which  asserts  a direct  intuition  of  the  absolute  as  distinct  from 
man,  (Jacobi).  Next  it  proceeds  to  the  system  of  absolute  think- 
ing, in  which  the  process  of  logical  thought  is  regarded  as  being 
in  itself  a revelation  of  the  absolute  truth,  (Schelling  and  Hegel). 
Lastly,  by  the  union  of  the  faith-philosophy  with  that  of  specula- 
tive thinking,  we  reach  the  highest  point  of  self-consciousness,  that 
in  which  the  manifestation  of  God  is  regarded  as  the  sole  reality ; 
the  human  mind  lost,  at  length,  in  the  Divine. J Such,  then,  is  the 
subjective  side  of  Fichte’s  philosophy,  that  in  which  there  is  a sys- 
tematic evolution  of  the  human  consciousness  by  the  dialectic 
method  of  Hegel,  from  its  first  phenomena  to  its  highest  specula- 
tive intensity. 

Having  accomplished  the  subjective  portion  of  his  labor,  and 
carried  up  the  development  of  the  consciousness  to  the  point  where 
self-knowing  becomes  identical  with  the  knowledge  of  Deity,  Fichte 

♦ Grundziige  zum  Syst.  der  Phil.  p.  210 — 247. 

t Ibid.  p.  248—285. 


X Ibid.  p.  286—317. 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


493 


now  makes  the  passage  to  the  objective  sphere  of  his  system — to 
the  province  of  ontology.  Here,  the  dialectic  process  again  com- 
mences its  operation,  and,  guided  by  the  light  it  affords,  the  author 
goes  through  all  the  categories  of  existence,  in  the  same  manner 
as  in  Hegel’s  Logic,  tracing  it  through  the  doctrines  of  being  and 
of  essence,  up  to  absolute  personality  as  predicated  of  Deity  itself 
In  this  part  of  his  philosophy,  however,  there  is  a very  essential 
difference  between  the  view  that  is  taken  of  our  knowledge  of  the 
absolute,  and  that  given  by  Hegel.  In  Hegel,  Deity  is  the  eternal 
process  of  self-development,  as  realized  in  man ; the  divine  and 
human  consciousness  falling  absolutely  together.  In  Fichte,  on 
the  contrary,  the  Divine  nature  is  never  the  direct  object  of  our 
consciousness,  but  can  only  be  known  to  us  by  its  manifestations. 

The  knowledge  of  God  and  of  his  manifestions  forms  the  subject 
of  speculative  theology,  the  very  highest  branch  of  philosophy. 
Of  these  manifestations  there  are  three  great  spheres  of  observa- 
tion— nature,  mind,  and  humanity.  In  nature  we  see  the  Divine 
idea  in  its  lowest  expression ; in  mind,  with  its  powers,  faculties, 
moral  feelings,  freedom,  &c.,  we  see  it  in  its  higher  and  more  per- 
fect form.  Lastly,  in  humanity,  we  see  God,  not  only  as  creator 
and  sustainer,  but  also  as  a father  and  a guide.  History  exhibits 
the  development  of  the  plan  of  his  providence,  which  plan  would 
only  be  to  us  a mere  possibility,  were  it  not  realized  in  the  flow  of 
the  ages,  and  witnessed  by  our  own  actual  experience  in  the  world. 
Thus,  then,  for  the  highest  knowledge  of  God  we  have  to  fall  back 
upon  experience,  the  very  point  from  which  we  started  in  the  path 
of  intellectual  science.  Here,  therefore,  we  see  the  whole  cycle 
complete.  Philosophy  begins  with  experience,  and  ends  with  ex- 
perience, containing  between  these  two  poles  all  the  various  steps 
of  speculative  thinking  which  have  raised  the  dim  and  empty  ex- 
perience of  our  primary  life,  up  to  the  full  and  clear  intuition  of 
Deity  in  all  the  blaze  of  his  brightest  manifestation. 

Such,  in  brief,  are  the  main  points  of  the  system  we  proposed  to 
describe.  It  may  be  wanting  in  the  exuberant  fertility  of  Schel- 
ling,  and  in  the  logical  grasp  of  Hegel ; but  assuredly  it  puts  the 
results  of  the  German  idealism  more  within  the  grasp  of  ordinary 
minds,  and  by  linking  the  shadowy  transcendentalism  of  the  former 
systems  to  the  terra  firma  of  our  actual  experience,  attempts  not 
altogether  unsuccessfully  to  combine  the  common  sense  of  the  one 
with  the  refined  speculation  of  the  other. 

With  regard  to  those  idealistic  philosophers  who  have  put  forth 


494 


MOUEIIN  FlilEOSOPHY. 


systems  of  their  own,  independent  of  the  greater  authorities  of  the 
age ; we  might  mention  Suabedissen,  Hillebrand,  Troxler,  and 
Krause,  as  among  the  principal ; always,  of  course,  excepting  those 
who  have  taken  a direction  in  favor  .of  mysticism.  The  peculi- 
arity of  these  writers  is,  that  they  have  all  made  the  attempt  to 
combine  in  one  the  subjective  and  objective  branches  of  the  mod- 
ern idealism,  to  unite  the  principles  of  Schelling  and  Hegel,  and 
evolve  something  better  than  either.  Suabedissen  has  with  pecul- 
iar care  elaborated  the  philosophy  of  religion,  in  wdiich  he  has 
combated  the  idea,  that  God  is  the  eternal  pi’ocess  of  the  universe  ; 
and  deduced  from  the  bare  notion  of  self-existence,  the  proper 
essence,  spirituality,  and  personality  of  Deity. 

Hillebrand  also  bent  his  chief  attention  upon  this  same  theologi- 
cal point.  His  great  principle  is,  that  God,  or  the  Absolute,  has 
revealed  himself  to  us  immediately  in  our  own  consciousness:  to 
prove,  however,  that  we  can  trust  our  consciousness  upon  these 
points,  must  be  the  province  of  philosophy ; and  it  is  in  this  sense 
only  that  philosophy  can  give  any  proof  of  the  existence  of  a Deity. 
Troxler’s  philosophy  is  of  the  microcosmic  order.  To  him  the 
source,  the  centre,  the  object  of  all  philosophy  is  man.  All  truth 
and  all  knowledge  is  simply  the  revelation  of  the  original  elements 
of  our  own  reason,  and  the  reality  which  is  implied  in  them.  The 
soul  is  a perfect  mirror  of  the  universe,  and  we  have  only  to  gaze 
into  it  with  earnest  attention,  to  discover  all  truth  which  is  acces- 
sible to  humanity.  What  we  know  of  God,  therefore,  can  be  only 
that  which  is  originally  revealed  to  us  of  him  in  our  own  minds. 

Lastly,  Krause  terms  his  philosophy  a system  of  transcendental 
idealism,  in  which,  commencing  with  the  subjective  principle  of 
observing  what  exists  in  our  own  consciousness,  he  raises  himself 
step  by  step  to  the  acknowledgment  of  one,  eternal,  self-existent 
being.  To  characterize  these  different  shadings  of  the  ideal  phi- 
losophy of  Germany  more  accurately  would  hardly  consist  wdth  the 
brevity  of  our  present  plan ; we  shall,  therefore,  now  take  leave  of 
this  most  remarkable  page  in  the  history  of  the  world’s  philosophy, 
with  a single  observation. 

The  great  peculiarity,  which  distinguishes  the  modern  philosophy 
of  Germany  from  that  of  every  other  country,  is  the  use  of  the 
ontological  instead  of  the  p.sychological  method.  Descartes,  Locke, 
and  others,  following  up  the  Baconian  principles,  affirmed,  that  in 
taking  a survey  of  the  whole  mass  of  human  knowledge,  we  must 
commence  with  an  observation  of  the  powers  and  conceptions  of 


THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL. 


495 


the  human  mind,  as  the  instrument  by  which  alone  everything  is  to 
be  comprehended ; i.  e.,  we  must  make  a full  inspection  of  the 
facts  of  the  case,  before  we  can  safely  proceed  to  erect  the  edifice 
of  intellectual  philosophy.  The  German  philosophers,  on  the  con- 
trary, despising  this  method,  begin  by  laying  down  the  most  primi- 
tive and  abstract  notion  we  have  of  existence,  as  though  it  were  a 
lea-lity,  and  proceed  onwards  evolving  the  idea,  until  step  by  step 
they  have  constructed  the  whole  universe.  Now,  those  who  follow 
the  psychological  method,  give  us  for  the  most  part  a valid  phi- 
losophy, but  too  often  a shallow  one.  Bent  upon  the  observance 
and  classification  of  the  facts  of  mind,  they  too  frequently  remain 
altogether  within  this  circle  without  touching  upon  any  of  the 
deeper  problems  which  ontology  brings  before  us.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  abettors  of  the  ontological  method,  beginning  to  philoso- 
phize before  they  have  investigated  the  instrument  by  which  alone 
they  can  proceed,  and,  consequently,  having  no  definite  boundaries 
fixed  within  which  human  knowledge  must  be  confined,  are  obliged 
to  assume  their  first  position,  (such  as  that  of  intellectual  intuition, 
or  the  dialectic  process,)  and  thus  are  often  imperceptibly  led  into 
a region  of  philosophy  as  extravagant  as  it  is  baseless.  The  true 
march  of  philosophy  is  the  union  of  the  two.  Starting  from  the 
analysis  of  the  human  mind,  trying,  as  Locke  expresses  it,  the 
length  of  the  line  by  which  we  are  to  sound  the  ocean  of  truth,  we 
must  go  steadily  on,  directed  by  the  light  of  induction,  until,  at 
length,  we  find  ourselves  legitimately  landed  within  the  region  of 
ontology.  From  thence  we  may  start  upon  a new  voyage  of  dis- 
covery, still  guided  by  an  analysis  of  the-  facts  and  implications  of 
our  reason,  until  we  run  out  our  line  to  the  full  length,  and  wait 
for  the  brighter  apocalypse  of  another  world. 

To  decry  the  whole  process  of  speculative  philosophy,  as  it  has 
developed  itself  in  Germany,  can  arise  from  no  other  cause  except 
ignorance  or  prejudication.  Doubtless  there  may  be  much  extrav- 
agance, and  many  erroneous  conclusions  to  be  met  with  in  a 
sphere  of  research  so  lofty,  and  lying  so  much  in  the  twilight  of 
human  knowledge  ; but  the  questions  it  raises  ai’e  those  in  which 
we  have  the  deepest  interest,  while  the  glimpses  of  great  and  com- 
prehensive truths  which  it  affords,  give  us  the  hope  of  a future, 
which  shall  draw  aside  the  veil  from  much  which  is  now  obscure, 
and  usher  the  human  mind  into  the  light  of  a more  perfect  day. 

“ Verily,”  says  an  eloquent  French  w'riter,  “ to  see  imbecile  and 
discouraged  minds  exhaust  themselves  in  ridiculous  attacks  against 


496 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


philosophy — to  see  them  bent  upon  denying  the  part  it  plays  in  the 
history  of  the  world  ; to  see  them  ignore  the  reality  of  human 
science,  and  believe  that  a great  nation  can  consume  three-quarters 
of  a century  in  mooting  sterile  chimseras,  such  a blindness  of  in- 
tellect can  only  fill  one  with  astonishment ; but  when  to  this  blind- 
ness is  joined  a spite  and  irritation  against  the  triumph  and  empire 
of  ideas,  a holy  emotion  seizes  the  mind,  and  we  in  our  turn,  by 
virtue  of  our  hope  for  the  progress  of  humanity,  reply  to  these 
declarations,  Stop ! do  not  commit  an  outrage  upon  our  common 
mother — human  thought ; do  not  make  use  of  the  little  that  you  do 
know,  to  insult  that  which  you  know  not.  Rest  (for  we  will 
cheerfully  allow  you)  in  the  easy  paths  of  the  old  traditions ; these 
traditions  have  themselves  been  a product  of  humanity,  and  are 
now  its  legacy ; but  we  are  not  to  be  hindered  from  pressing  on- 
wards to  fresh  ideas,  by  such  disdainful  airs.”* 

We  close  our  remarks,  with  the  words  of  another  philosopher, 
who  occupies  one  of  the  highest  stations  in  the  literature  of  a 
neighboring  country. 

“It  is  time,”  says  M.  de  Remusat,  speaking  of  the  German  phi- 
losophers, “ it  is  time  that  we  should  venture  to  fix  our  eyes  upon 
the  object  which  they  have  set  before  them,  and  to  enter  into  the 
region  in  which  they  have  marched ; without,  however,  following 
their  footsteps.  We  must  imitate  them,  preserving  at  the  same 
time  those  precious  guarantees  of  method,  of  erudition,  of  language, 
of  experience,  which  are  the  foundation  of  our  philosophical  wis- 
dom, Let  us  bring  reasons  as  well  as  they  for  grasping  funda- 
mental questions,  but  let  us  feel  bound  either  to  resolve  them  in 
a contrary  sense,  or  to  conclude  upon  the  impossibility  of  resolv- 
ing them  at  all.  In  one  word,  let  us  reinstate  that  which  is 
most  difficult,  but  most  elevated  in  all  philosophy,  namely,  Meta- 
physics.” 

Sect.  III. — The  English  School  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

In  sketching  the  history  of  idealism  generally,  from  the  revival 
of  philosophy  in  modern  times,  I termed  that  of  our  own  country 
polemical  idealism,  as  originating  rather  from  opposition  to  sensa- 
tionalism than  from  the  spontaneous  tendencies  of  the  national 
mind.  In  Germany,  the  ideal  tendency  has  ever  seemed  to  spring 
» “ Au  dela  du  Rhin,”  par  E.  Lcrtninier.  Vol.  ii.  p.  114. 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


497 


from  the  very  soil,  and  to  have  flourished  there  without  any  of  the 
excitement  derived  from  opposition  ; in  England,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  has  lived  upon  warfare  ; and  whenever  the  bold  advances 
of  sensationalism  have  ceased,  it  has  always  been  inclined  to  cease 
with  them.  The  deistical  Writers,  who  at  the  close  of  the  seven- 
teenth and  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  centuries  sustained  their 
sceptical  principles  by  expanding  the  germs  of  sensationalism, 
which  lay  hid  in  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  gradually  died  away ; 
and  with  them  disappeared,  one  after  the  other,  the  traces  of  our 
idealistic  philosophy.  By  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  the 
school  of  English  idealism  may  be  said  to  have  become  altogether 
extinct,  and  every  attempt  at  metaphysical  speculation  seemed  to 
merge  in  the  supreme  authorit)^  of  Locke,  or  the  efforts  of  his  suc- 
cessors.* 

At  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century,  therefore,  we  may 
consider  that,  as  far  as  idealism  is  concerned,  the  ground  was  per- 
fectly clear.  Sensationalism,  indeed,  was  again  advancing  with 
rapid  strides,  urged  on  by  the  impulse  acquired  fi'om  the  brilliant 
literature  of  France,  and  fostered  by  the  writings  of  Priestley, 
Belsham,  and  the  school  of  which  they  stood  at  the  head ; but  of 
the  ideal  tendency  hardly  the  slightest  appearance  was  left  in  Eng- 
land to  remind  us,  that  it  was  still  the  country  of  Cudworth,  Clarke, 
and  Berkeley.  Neithei’,  indeed,  has  the  present  century,  in  its  prog- 
ress, been  very  forward  to  supply  the  metaphysical  deficiency 
which  existed  at  its  birth.  That  the  reaction  has  now  set  in  we 
fully  believe  ; but  it  has  come  tardily  and  unwillingly,  and  it  may 
yet,  to  all  appearance,  be  some  years  before  an  energetic  anti-sen- 
sational school  shall  grace  the  literature  of  our  native  land. 

With  regard  to  the  sources,  from  which  the  seeds  of  a more 
rationalistic  system  of  philosophizing  have  been  slowly  imported, 
there  are  two  which  almost  immediately  suggest  themselves  to  our 
minds,  namely,  Scotland  and  Germany.  Great  as  is  the  difference 
between  the  philosophy  of  these  two  countries,  yet  there  are-,  un- 
questionably, some  important  points  of  resemblance,  which  place 
them  tc^ether  as  the  antagonists  of  empiricism  ; and  v/e  can  hardly 
be  mistaken  in  sajdng,  that  all  the  reaction  which  has  been  experi- 
enced in  England  against  sensational  principles  has  borne  the 
complexion  of  one  or  other  of  these  two  philosophical  schools. 
Scotland,  true  to  its  principle  of  “ common  sense,^’  has  insisted  on 

* A few  idealistic  works,  such  as  Drummond’s  “ Academical  Q,uestions,”  appeared 
about  the  beginning  of  this  century,  but  not  of  sufficient  weight  to  need  any  particular 
mention. 

32 


498 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  validity  of  those  ideas,  which  appear  to  be  the  natural  product 
of  the  human  reason,  and  resisted  every  attempt  to  resolve  them 
into  sensational  elements  ; and  Germany,  boldly  grappling  with 
the  deepest  questions  of  ontology,  has  drawn  a broad  distinction 
between  the  phenomenal  world,  as  viewed  by  the  senses,  and  the 
real  world,  as  comprehended  by  the  intellect.  In  both  cases  there 
is  a direct  appeal  made  to  the  authority  of  reason,  and  an  equal 
determination  not  to  remain  shut  up  within  the  boundaries  of 
sense. 

England,  with  the  clear-headed  practical  wisdom  for  which  it 
stands  pre-eminent,  has  been  gazing,  from  time  to  time,  upon  the 
results  of  both  these  schools,  and  has  been  considering  what  there 
is  in  each  that  is  likely  to  prove  unsound,  and  what  that  can  be 
safely  adopted.  It  has  entered  with  earnestness  into  the  philoso- 
phy of  Reid,  and  appropriated  its  results  without  copying  its  too 
often  tedious  dialectical  dulness  ; while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  has 
been  lately  approaching  the  borders  of  the  German  spiritualism, 
and  showing  a disposition  to  sift  the  wheat  out  of  the  large  mass 
of  chaif  which  that  voluminous  school  presents.  From  these  cir- 
cumstances, then,  we  are  furnished  with  a principle  of  classifica- 
tion under  which  to  describe  the  manifestations  of  idealism,  which 
have  appeared  in  England  during  the  present  century.  We  shall 
divide  them  into  two  classes  : — First,  the  English  metaphysical 
school,  which  is  predominantly  under  Scottish  influence  ; and 
secondly,  that  which  is  predominantly  under  German  influence  ; 
leaving  at  the  same  time  in  each  some  scope  for  the  working  of 
the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  national  mind. 

(A.)  Scoto-English  METArirsrsiciANs. 

That  so  profound  a writer  as  Dr.  Reid,  followed  up  by  the 
elegant  and  learned  additions  of  Dugald  Stewart,  should  raise  a 
vigorous  school  of  philosophy  in  Scotland,  without  producing  some 
effect  upon  English  philosophical  thinkers,  could  hardly  have  been 
possible.  The  labors  of  these  northern  metaphysicians,  more 
especially  in  disabusing  the  world  of  the  errors  couched  under  the 
phraseology  of  the  ideal  system,  became,  during  the  earlier  part  of 
this  century,  more  and  more  appreciated  throughout  the  whole  of 
our  country,  until  gradually  their  works  came  to  be  widely  regarded 
in  the  south  as  the  best  text-books  of  intellectual  science.  The 
tone  and  character  of  philosophical  writing  in  England  by  degrees 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


499 


were  altered ; and  if  it  did  not  entirely  follow  the  Scottish  models, 
yet,  at  least,  it  exhibited  the  great  influence  which  those  models 
had  exercised  upon  the  ordinary  habits  of  metaphysical  thinking. 
It  is  the  history  and  nature  of  this  influence,  accordingly,  which 
we  now  purpose  to  depict.  To  do  this  we  shall  not  make  out  any 
chronological  list  of  authors,  w'ho  have  manifested  this  leaning  to 
the  northern  school ; but  we  shall  briefly  present  the  names  of  the 
most  prominent  metaphysical  writers,  who  have  been  distinguished 
respectively  by  a more  near  or  remote  degree  of  approximation  to 
the  Scottish  system,  as  illustrative  of  the  influence  of  that  system 
upon  the  country  at  large. 

1.  And  first,  we  notice  those  Avho  have  follov/ed  Scottish  author- 
ity almost  without  deviation.  Not  a few  of  our  countrymen,  (who 
have  either  been  educated  at  the  Scottish  universities,  or  have 
confined  their  philosophical  reading  to  the  volumes  of  Reid,  Stew- 
art, and  Brown,)  have  so  entirely  imbibed  the  philosophical  spirit 
of  the  north,  as  never  to  depart  from  it  except  here  and  there  on 
some  very  few,  and  those  unimportant  points.  Those  who  have 
read  Dr.  Payne’s  “ Elements  of  Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy,” 
will  see  in  it  an  excellent  example  of  the  style  of  metaphysical 
writing  we  are  describing.  With  good  abilities  for  analysis,  and  a 
mind  well  versed  in  habits  of  abstract  thinking,  the  author  has  fur- 
nished us  with  an  abridgment  of  Brown’s  philosophy,  which,  while 
it  wants  the  poetry  of  the  original,  at  least  equals  it  in  the  clear 
and  succinct  statement  of  the  philosophical  doctrines  which  are 
advanced.  In  the  moral  department,  moreover,  the  erroi’s  and 
imperfections  of  Brown  are  well  portrayed ; and  an  attempt  is 
made,  if  not  entirely  successful,  yet  at  least  forcible  and  well-sus- 
tained, to  lay  afresh  the  foundations  of  the  emotional  theory  of 
morals.  In  this  attempt  he  has  been  seconded  by  Spalding,  in  his 

Philosophy  of  Christian  Morals,”  another  author,  (now  unhappily 
no  more),  who,  while  he  adopted  for  the  most  part  the  Scottish 
system  of  philosophizing,  yet  knew  w'ell  how  to  take  an  original 
view  both  of  its  principles  and  results.  To  dwell  upon  this  pe- 
culiar feature  of  our  English  philosophy,  however,  is  unnecessaiy, 
since  we  may  regard  it  almost  as  a pure  reflection  of  the  Scottish 
school ; let  it  suffice  here  to  notice  the  simple  fact,  that  such  a re- 
flection has  existed  in  this  country,  and  has  given  rise  to  some  few 
excellent  digests  both  of  moral  and  psychological  science. 

2.  We  may  point  out  the  existence  of  certain  other  metaphysi- 
qal  w'riters,  who  have  used  the  productions  of  the  Scottish  school. 


500 


MODERN'  PHILOSOPHY. 


not  SO  much  in  the  light  of  authorities,  as  of  guides  and  incentives 
to  their  own  independent  thinking  and  research. 

At  the  head  of  these  we  should  place  Isaac  Taylor,  a name 
now,  indeed,  better  known  in  the  controversies  of  the  theological 
than  those  of  the  philosophical  world.  The  metaphysical  works 
of  this  profound  and  voluminous  author  began  with  a small  book, 
entitled  “ Elements  of  Thought,”  which  has  gone  through  several 
editions,  and  remains,  to  the  present  day,  we  believe,  the  only 
brief  and  elementary  introduction  to  mental  philosophy  (which  is 
worthy  the  name)  in  our  own  language.*  The  works,  however, 
upon  which  Mr.  Taylor’s  philosophical  reputation  now  mainly 
rests,  are  the  four  volumes,  which  appeared  successively  under  the 
titles  of  the  “Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm,”  “Fanaticism,” 
“ Spiritual  Despotism,”  and  “ The  Physical  Theory  of  another 
Life.”  In  these  treatises,  he  has  opened  what  may  be  considered,  in 
our  own  land,  a new  field  of  philosophical  observation.  Impatient 
of  confining  himself  to  the  study  of  mind  in  its  isolated  state  ; not 
content,  like  the  closer  followers  of  the  Scottish  system,  simply  with 
looking  within,  and  marking  the  processes  of  the  individual  self, 
he  has  cast  his  eye  upon  the  broad  surface  of  humanity,  and  at- 
tempted to  gather  results  from  the  action  of  mind,  as  seen  working 
on  the  vast  theatre  of  the  world.  Mr.  Taylor’s  genius  is  of  the 
telescopic  rather  than  the  microscopic  cast.  In  the  sweep  of  his 
thought  he  may  overlook  some  of  the  smaller  points  which  lie  in 
the  road,  but  assuredly  the  range  of  his  vision  is  far  beyond  men 
of  the  ordinary  stamp,  and  his  power  of  generalizing  often  of  the 
most  striking  character.  Every  volume  he  has  published  is,  in  its 
tone  and  spirit,  a stern  rebuke  to  the  pretensions  of  that  shallow 
sensationalism,  which  is  apt  to  carry  away  the  unreflecting  mind 
by  its  vaunted  simplicity,  and  bears  an  unequivocal  witness  to  the 
majesty  of  the  human  reason,  even  in  its  wanderings  and  its  follies. 

With  all  this  independence  of  thought,  with  his  capacity  of  grasp- 
ing great  principles,  and  drawing  inferences  from  the  widest  sur- 
vey of  facts,  yet  there  is  still,  we  think,  impressed  upon  many  pages, 
the  bias  derived  from  the  Scottish  philosophy.  With  a mind  so 
vigorously  constituted,  a spirit  not  to  be  daunted  by  ditficulties,  a 
reason  that  does  not  shrink  from  the  most  recondite  and  startling 
conclusions,  when  they  come  in  its  way,  and  a disposition  to  iden- 

* Since  the  above  was  written,  there  has  appeared  a little  work,  entitled,  “ Outlines 
of  Mental  and  Moral  Science,  intended  as  introductory  to  the  Logic,  Metaphysics,  and 
Ethics  of  the  University  Course,” — Dublin,  1846.  It  is  comprehensive  and  useful  to 
the  young  student,  but  not  much  to  be  depended  on  beyond  the  Scottish  philosophy. 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


501 


tify  truth,  though  it  lie  at  present  in  the  twilight  of  man’s  vision, 
we  see  everything  in  this  author  that  would  almost  necessitate  a 
sympathy  with  the  more  able  and  profound  of  the  eontinental  met- 
aphysicians, were  his  sympathies  transferred  for  a time  from  Britain 
to  Germany.  An  elaboration  of  the  most  valuable  points  of  the 
higher  metaphysics,  adapted  to  the  capacity  of  English  minds, 
would,  in  such  hands,  prove  of  incalculable  service,  in  satisfying 
the  now  growing  demand  for  a sounder  and  more  comprehensive 
system  of  philosophy.  For  the  realization  of  this  service,  however, 
we  have  no  ground  of  expectation,  as  Mr.  Taylor  has  become  too 
much  entangled  in  party  strife  to  be  able  to  devote  himself  to  those 
deeper  problems,  from  neglect  of  which  such  strife  really  proceeds. 
It  is  not,  assuredly,  one  of  the  least  complaints  we  have  to  make 
against  the  din  of  theological  controversy,  that  it  should  entice 
minds  such  as  these  from  the  calm  pursuit  of  a lofty  and  spiritual 
philosophy  into  its  vortex,  and  cause  the  more  local  and  temporary 
questions  of  the  day  to  absorb  those  intellects,  which  might  be 
establishing  the  greater  principles  that  lie  at  the  foundation  of  hu- 
man knowledge,  and  by  the  establishment  of  which,  alone,  we  can 
hope  for  repose  from  the  noise  and  eonfusion  of  lesser  contention. 
As  it  is,  however,  the  name  of  Isaac  Taylor,  in  connection  with  the 
philosophy  of  human  nature,  as  developed  in  his  Histories  of  En- 
thusiasm, Fanatieism,  and  Spiritual  Despotism,  in  connection  with 
his  physical  theories  on  the  spiritual  state,  and  also  in  connection 
with  his  more  recent  advocacy  of  the  sanctity  and  inviolability  of 
moral  obligation,  will  ever  hold  a decided  place  in  the  history  of 
English  thinking  during  the  nineteenth  century. 

3.  There  is  yet  another  class  of  thinkers,  sometimes  expressing 
their  opinions  through  the  pages  of  the  Magazine  or  Review,  and, 
in  a few  instances,  by  original  works,  who,  while  they  oppose  the 
Scottish  philosophy  as  a whole,  yet  avowedly  borrow  from  it  many 
of  their  views  and  principles.  Such  a writer  is  Mr.  Smart,  the  au- 
thor of  a volume  containing  three  separate  treatises,  and  entitled, 
“ Beginnings  of  a New  School  of  Metaphysics.”  Mr.  Smart  is  a 
professor  of  elocution  of  long  and  established  reputation,  and  has 
been  allured  from  his  proper  department — that  of  rhetoric — into 
the  kindred  topics  of  logic  and  metaphysics.  His  first  work  upon 
these  subjects  was  entitled  “ Sematology ; or,  the  Doctrine  of 
Signs,”  in  which  he  lays  down  the  respective  nature  and  limits  of 
grammar,  logic,  and  rhetoric.  The  view  which  is  taken  of  the  two 
latter  branches  gives  us  a very  clear  line  of  demarcation  between 


502 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


them  ; logic  being  regarded  as  “ the  right  use  of  words,  with  a view 
to  the  investigation  of  truth,”  and  rhetoric  as  “ the  right  use  of 
words,  with  a view  to  inform,  convince,  or  persuade.”* 

According  to  these  definitions,  logic  is  the  art  of  gaining  knowl- 
edge through  the  medium  of  words,  while  rhetoric  has  the  sole  office 
of  placing  them  in  such  positions,  whether  they  form  syllogisms  or 
anything  else,  as  to  inform  or  convince  others.  This  division  has 
certainly  the  merit  of  some  degree  of  originality,  and  the  method 
in  which  the  matter  is  argued  is  highly  ingenious ; although  we 
cannot  make  up  our  mind  as  to  the  propriety  of  altering  so  widely 
the  ancient  landmarks  between  the  two  branches  in  question.  As  a 
metaphysician,  Mr.  Smart  proposes  to  remodel  and  revive  the  phi- 
losophy of  Locke,  and  combine  with  it  the  more  recent  results  of 
the  Scotch  metaphysicians. f Through  the  whole  of  his  treatises, 
great  stress  is  laid,  as  might  be  expected,  upon  words,  as  the  signs 
and  media  of  our  thoughts.  He  wishes,  in  fact,  to  do  away  with 
the  philosophy  of  mind,  as  such,  and  to  reduce  all  science  to  these 
three  branches : — 1.  The  study  of  things  physical,  or  those  which 
exist  distinct  from  our  thoughts  ; 2.  The  study  of  things  metaphys- 
ical, or  those  which  do  not  exist  apart  from  our  thoughts,  (as  a 
circle — man — good — the  edge  of  the  table — the  power  of  God ;) 
and,  3,  Logic,  which  is  to  show  the  method  of  procedure  to  be  fol- 
lowed in  both.J  Many  good  thoughts  are  scattered  up  and  down 
these  pages,  although,  as  a whole,  we  cannot  divest  ourselves  of 
the  feeling  that  they  lead  to  an  indefinite  and  unsatisfactory  result. 
They  afford  us,  however,  at  present,  a very  obvious  example  of  the 
working  of  the  Scottish  philosophy  upon  the  modern  Lockian 
school  of  England,  and  the  influence  it  has  had,  both  in  moulding 
its  phraseology,  and  in  reversing  its  sensational  tendency. 

4.  We  mention,  lastly,  under  this  head,  the  present  Cambridge 
school  of  metaphysics,  which  is  the  transition  point  between  the 
English  philosophy  that  partakes  of  the  Scottish,  and  that  which 
partakes  of  the  German  character. 

For  above  two  centuries  past,  the  University  of  Cambridge  has 
given  indications  of  a sympathy  with  metaphysical  speculation, 
which,  though  sometimes  almost  disappearing,  has  ever  and  anon 
made  its  reappearance  as  circumstances  have  called  it  forth. 
During  the  seventeenth  century,  the  Platonic  divines,  to  whom  we 
have  before  referred,  excited  a spirit  of  philosophical  inquiry  which 

♦ Sematology,  p.  87.  t Sequel  to  Sematology,  p.  30. 

X Ibid.  p.  IbO. 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


503 


must  be  reckoned  among  the  most  remarkable  literary  manifesta- 
tions of  the  age.  Locke,  though  himself  one  of  the  ornaments  of 
Oxford,  yet,  after  his  death,  was  far  more  zealously  studied  and  ad- 
mired at  Cambridge  than  in  his  own  university,  and  it  was  there, 
first,  that  a school  of  metaphysics  was  formed  which  owned  him 
expressly  as  its  authority  and  its  guide.  Dr.  Law,  one  of  the  great* 
est  advocates  of  the  Lockian  sensationalism,  was  a resident  at 
Cambridge,  and  Dr.  Hartley,  the  originator  of  the  modern  school  • 
of  association,  was  a student  at  the  same  university. 

The  earlier  philosophical  school  of  Cambridge  was  idealistic  ; the 
latter  was  decidedly  sensational.  Perhaps  the  brilliant  discoveries 
of  Newton  in  physical  science  may  have  tended  to  absorb  all  purely 
metaphysical  investigation,  or  where  it  did  not  absorb,  to  divert  it 
into  a more  objective  channel.  But,  notwithstanding  the  ardor 
with  which  physical  science  long  has  been,  and  still  is,  studied  at 
Cambridge,  we  are  mistaken  if  the  dawn  of  a new  philosophical 
spirit  is  not  even  now  manifesting  itself  within  the  walls  of  that 
university.  Many  are  the  intimations  which  are  given  there  from 
time  to  time  of  a sympathy  with  the  German  idealism ; many  the 
attempts  to  revert  from  the  wonders  of  nature  to  the  deeper  won- 
ders of  the  spirit  of  man ; many  the  intimations  that,  amidst  all  the 
blessings  conveyed  by  the  extension  of  physical  science,  yet  “ there 
are  fields  of  grander  discovery;  that  though  Nature’s  works  be 
great,  we  are  greater  than  all  these ; that  what  we  can  least  do 
without  is  not  our  highest  need ; that  man  cannot  live  by  bread 
alone.”* 

The  new  intellectual  spirit,  now  rising  in  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, may  be  perhaps  most  clearly  seen  in  the  reform  of  its 
moral  philosophy.  Paley,  who  stood  almost  alone  for  a long  space 
of  years  as  the  moral  philosopher  of  Cambridge,  was  clearly  of 
the  empirical  school,  and  accordingly  advocated,  with  some  pecu- 
liarities of  his  own,  the  sensational  theory  of  ethics,  that  which 
grounds  all  virtue  upon  utility.  The  reaction  against  this  school 
has  now  most  decidedly  set  in.  Very  plain  intimations  of  it  ap- 
peared as  far  back  as  the  year  1834,  when  Professor  Sedgwick 
published  his  admirable  Discourse  on  the  studies  of  the  University, 
and  attacked  the  philosophy  of  Locke  and  of  Paley,  both  in  their 
principles  and  in  their  elfects.  “ The  Essay  on  the  Human  Un- 
derstanding,” he  remarks,  “produced  a chilling  effect  on  the  philo- 
sophical writings  of  the  last  century,  and  many  a cold  and  beggarly 

» Vide  Professor  Lushington’s  Inaugural  Lecture  at  Glasgow. 


504 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


system  of  psychology  was  sent  into  the  world  by  authors  of  the 
school  of  Locke,  pretending,  at  least,  to  start  from  his  principles, 
and  to  build  on  his  foundation.  It  is  to  the  entire  domination  his 
Essay  had  once  established  in  our  university,  that  we  may  per- 
haps attribute  all  that  is  faulty  in  the  moral  philosophy  of  Paley.” 
Again,  the  same  author,  speaking  more  particularly  of  the  philoso- 
phy of  Paley,  sums  up  his  many  lucid  remarks  in  the  following 
striking  and  emphatic  words  : — “ Lastly,  we  may,  I think,  assert, 
both  on  reason  and  experience,  that  wherever  the  utilitarian  sys- 
tem is  generally  accepted,  made  the  subject  of  a priori  reasoning, 
and  carried,  through  the  influence  of  popular  writings,  into  practi- 
cal effect,  it  will  be  found  to  result  in  effects  most  pestilent  to  the 
honor  and  happiness  of  man.” 

These  are  by  no  means  the  only  indirect  evidences,  which  might 
be  adduced,  of  a nascent  idealistic  school  in  the  university  of 
Cambridge.  It  seems  almost  certain,  that  the  reaction  against  the 
excessive  pursuit  of  physical  science,  the  growing  sympathy  with 
the  most  lofty-minded  of  the  German  philosophical  writers,  the 
profound,  and,  at  the  same  time,  elegant  reflections  upon  spiritual 
truth,  which  for  some  time  past  has  characterized  many  of  the  sons 
of  that  university,  must  give  rise  to  a spiritual  philosophy  which, 
like  that  of  the  seventeenth  century,  may  play  an  important  part 
in  the  future  literature  of  our  country.”* 

It  is,  however,  in  the  writings  of  Professor  Whewell  that  we  are 
to  look  for  some  of  the  more  marked  characteristics  of  the  modern 
Cambridge  metaphysics.  The  influence  of  the  Scottish  and  Ger- 
man philosophy  are  there  almost  equally  visible,  but  both  receive  a 
coloring  from  a mind  deeply  imbued  with  physical  science,  and 
accustomed  to  walk  amongst  the  highest  regions  of  mathematical 
investigation.  The  great  work  in  which  Dr.  Whewell  has  em- 
bodied his  metaphysical  opinions  is  that  entitled,  “ The  Philosophy 
of  the  Inductive  Sciences,”  the  object  of  which  is  to  show  the 
foundation  principles  of  all  scientific  research.  This  work  is  di- 
vided in  two  parts,  the  former  of  which  treats  of  ideas,  and  the 
latter  of  knowledge.  In  pursuing  the  investigation  of  our  ideas. 
Dr.  Whewell  has  closely  followed  some  of  the  principal  results  of 
the  Kantian  philosophy.  In  imitation  of  Kant,  for  example,  he 
shows,  that  in  all  our  notions  we  have  to  distinguish  the  matter  and 

* It  should  not  be  omitted,  that  the  writings  of  Coleridge  have  probably  beeii  the 
main  exciting  cause  of  this  reaction.  Several  of  the  Cambridge  theological  writers, 
such  as  Julius  Charles  Hare  and  others,  have  clearly  imbibed  largely  of  the  spirit  of 
those  writings. 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


505 


the  form,  the  matter  coming  through  the  senses,  the  form  being  the 
mould  in  which  this  matter  is  shaped  by  the  mind  itself.*  Time 
and  space,  which,  with  Kant,  are  the  two  categories  of  sensation, 
are  viewed  by  him  virtually  in  the  same  light,  namely,  as  the  two 
necessary  conceptions,  under  which  all  our  sense-perceptions  ap- 
pear.f  A sensation  itself  he  regards  as  the  bare  impression  of 
an  external  object  upon  the  mind  ; i\\&form  under  which  that  sen- 
sation is  viewed  he  terms  an  idea.X  Those  ideas  which  are  the 
ground  forms  of  our  knowledge,  such  as  time,  space,  cause,  are 
called  fundamental ; secondary  ideas  arising  from  them,  such  as 
length  and  breadth,  number  and  succession,  are  termed  ideal  con- 
ceptions.^ In  all  this  train  of  thinking  the  philosophical  student 
will  not  fail  to  see  not  merely  a tendency  to,  but  a decided  appro- 
propriation  of,  some  of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  the  Kantian 
metaphysics. 

Whilst,  however,  we  discern,  on  the  one  hand,  the  influence  of 
Germany,  there  are  several  points,  on  the  other,  in  which  the  re- 
sults of  the  Scottish  metaphysics  are  very  manifest.  One  of  the 
principal  of  these  is  the  adoption  of  the  muscular-tactual  sense,  as 
developed  by  Brown ; a theory  which  Dr.  Whewell,  in  fact,  not 
only  adopts,  but  carries  out  still  further,  so  as  to  account  for  many 
of  the  phenomena  of  vision,  as  well  as  those  of  resistance.!!  In 
the  general  phraseology  of  the  work,  indeed,  as  well  as  in  some  of 
the  theories  it  upholds,  we  plainly  see  that  the  writings  of  Reid, 
Stewart,  and  Brown,  have  had,  perhaps  imperceptibly,  no  incon- 
siderable influence  upon  the  mind  of  the  author. 

Without  entering  more  minutely,  however,  into  the  peculiar  fea- 
tures of  the  elaborate  treatise  before  us,  we  must  endeavor  to  show 
in  what  manner  it  may  be  regarded  as  presenting  a very  important 
step  in  the  transition,  which  philosophy  is  now  undergoing,  from 
the  sensationalist  to  the  idealistic  tendency.  The  principal  points 
where  this  transition  process  is  exhibited  in  the  work  before  us  are 
the  following. 

1.  In  the  broad  distinction  laid  down  between  sensations  and 
ideas  ; a distinction,  in  which  (unlike  that  of  Locke,  Mill,  and 
many  others)  the  latter  are  shown  to  have  no  direct  dependence 
upon  the  former,  but  an  a priori  existence  of  their  own,  as  original 
forms  or  categories  of  the  understanding. 

2.  In  the  opposition  that  is  pointed  out  between  necessary  and 

* Aphorisms  vi.  viii. ; also  vol.  i.  p.  29.  f Aphor.  xx.  to  xxx. 

I Vol.  i.  p.  25,  el  seg.  ^ Vol.  i.  p.  36,  el  seq. 

II  Book  iii.  chap.  v. 


506 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


contingent  truth,  the  one  being  grounded  in  experience,  the  other 
in  the  mind’s  own  primitive  constitution.* 

3.  In  the  doctrine  propounded  concerning  time  and  space  as  be- 
ing the  forms  of  all  our  perceptions,  and  existing  consequently  in 
the  mind  previous  to  our  first  sensations. 

4.  In  the  explanation  that  is  oflered  of  the  notion  of  causation, 
as  the  fundamental  idea,  on  which  the  mechanical  sciences  are 
founded,  and  not  an  effect  of  habit  or  association. 

5.  In  the  view  which  is  taken  of  human  knowledge  generally, 
as  resulting  from  the  appropriate  combination  within  the  mind  of 
facts  and  ideas. 

Dr.  Whewell’s  work,  besides  its  own  intrinsic  excellence,  has  like- 
wise the  merit  of  being  the  first  in  our  own  country  in  which  the 
logic  of  induction  has  been  fully  and  fairly  discussed.  Since  its 
appearance,  indeed,  it  has  met  with  a formidable  rival  in  Mr.  Mill’s 
“ System  of  Logic,”  but  by  no  means  yields  to  it,  as  it  appears  to 
us,  either  in  the  accuracy  of  views,  depth  of  anal3^sis,  or  copious- 
ness of  examples.  Presumptuous  as  it  may  seem,  to  judge  between 
two  works  of  such  unquestionable  merit,  nay,  which  may  be  both 
viewed  as  the  highest  efforts  of  the  human  mind  upon  these  sub- 
jects, we  cannot  forbear  expressing  our  belief,  that  Mr.  Mill,  biassed 
by  the  psychology  he  has  inherited  almost  by  birth,  has  neglected 
some  of  the  most  important  subjective  elements  in  the  formation 
of  our  simple  and  original  conceptions,  which  elements  the  Cam- 
bridge philosopher  has  seized  often  with  great  clearness,  and  illus- 
trated with  great  power. 

In  brief.  Dr.  Whewell,  though  an  ardent  lover  of  mathematical 
and  physical  science,  has  never  allowed  the  earnest  pursuit  of  ob- 
jective knowledge  to  obscure  the  necessity  of  investigating  the 
subjective  grounds,  on  which  these  pursuits  ultimately  repose.  He 
has  boldly  grappled  with  the  metaphysical  conceptions  which  lie  at 
the  basis  of  science,  overturned  the  sensationalism  which  too  often 
has  attached  itself  to  the  physical  inquirer,  shown  with  admirable 
clearness  the  dependence  of  all  objective  knowledge  upon  subjec- 
tive ideas,  and  raised,  we  trust,  an  effective  barrier  against  the  re- 
currence of  those  abuses,  to  which  the  Baconian  principles  have  so 
often  been  exposed.  Respecting  Dr.  Whewell  as  a moralist  we 
would  rather  observe  an  unassenting  silence.  As  his  work  on 
morals  does  not  profess  to  contain  a full  discussion  of  the  princi- 
ples of  ethical  philosophy,  we  pass  it  bj"  with  the  hope,  that  when 

* For  a fuller  account  of  this  point,  see  our  remarks  on  Mill’s  ‘‘  Logic.” 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


507 


he  undertakes  to  develop  them,  the  subject  will  have  assumed  a 
more  definite  form,  than  it  appears  at  present  to  have  assumed  in 
his  mind.  We  must  pass  on,  however,  to  the  consideration  of  that 
more  decisive  influence,  which  the  German  philosophy  is  at  pres- 
ent exerting  on  our  country. 


(B.)  Germano-English  Metaphtsiciaks. 

The  voluminous  and  profound  school  of  German  philosophy, 
though  somewhat  repulsive  in  its  first  aspect,  could  not  in  the 
nature  of  things  remain  shut  up  within  the  limits  of  the  German 
States.  Philosophical  thinking,  in  this  as  in  most  other  cases, 
has  pursued  its  course  irrespective  of  all  national  barriers,  and 
has  already  found  its  way  into  England,  France,  and  Ameinca. 
Amongst  our  own  countrymen.  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  whilst  in 
India,  obtained  some  little  insight  into  this  philosophy,  although  he 
never  gave  the  results  of  his  investigations  on  it  (which  we  imagine 
were  not  very  profound)  to  the  world.  The  first  of  our  English 
thinkers,  as  far  as  we  know,  who  entered  with  real  enthusiasm  into 
the  subject,  and  clothed  the  thoughts  of  German  philosophical 
writers  in  the  English  dress,  was  Coleridge.  Much  of  the  revival 
which  spiritualism  has  more  recently  experienced  amongst  us,  is 
probably  due  to  the  zeal  and  eloquence,  with  which  that  extraordi- 
nary man  advocated  his  doctrines  of  modern  Platonism,  doctrines 
to  which  he  was  manifestly  led  by  his  ardent  study  of  German  phi- 
losophy. 

In  France  the  modern  German  idealism  has  found  a still  more 
energetic  and  efficient  champion  in  M.  Cousin,  the  effects  of  whose 
writings  upon  philosophy  generally  are  probably  but  now  in  their 
infancy.  America,  too,  has  recently  been  arousing  herself  from 
the  dream  of  practical  utilitarianism,  and  giving  birth  to  a school 
of  philosophy  (grounded  chiefly  upon  the  writings  of  Cousin)  which 
bids  fair  to  prove  as  productive,  though  not  certainly  as  profound, 
as  the  European  sources  from  which  it  spi’ings.  Amongst  these, 
George  Ripley  and  Dr.  Henry  have  done  good  service  by  present- 
ing their  country  with  many  excellent  translations  from  the  French 
eclectic  writers,  which  have  also  found  their  way  into  this  king- 
dom. H.  P.  Tappan  of  New  York  has  re-argued  the  question  of 
the  freedom  of  the  will,  in  opposition  to  the  rigid  conclusions  of 
Jonathan  Edwards,  and  given  a very  lucid  compendium  of  logic 


508 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


on  the  principles  of  the  new  philosophy.  The  nannes  of  Emerson, 
Brownson,  and  Parker  are  well  known  through  various  of  their 
productions,  which  have  been  reprinted  in  England,  as  belonging 
to  the  school  of  American  Transcendentalism;  while  a monthly 
publication,  termed  “ The  Dial,”  the  organ  of  this  party,  has  until 
lately  brought  over  to  us  an  exhibition  of  the  progress  which  ideal- 
istic principles  are  making  upon  the  Western  Continent.  With 
such  seeds  of  idealism  scattered  amongst  us  from  so  many  different 
quarters,  all  originating  primarily  from  the  philosophy  of  Germany, 
it  were  unreasonable  not  to  look  for  some  decided  effect  upon  our 
own  national  habits  of  thinking. 

In  adverting  to  the  philosophy  of  England,  which  bears  the  Ger- 
man stamp  upon  it,  almost  every  one  will  immediately  recall  the 
name  of  Thomas  Carlyle,  a name  which  stands  first  and  foremost 
among  the  idealistic  writers  of  our  age.  In  bringing  the  works  of 
Carlyle  for  a moment  before  our  attention,  we  shall  not  give  any 
opinion  respecting  his  theological  sentiments,  inasmuch  as  these  lie 
quite  beyond  our  beat,  and  have  to  be  judged  of  before  another 
tribunal,  besides  that  of  a priori  reasoning.  Neither  do  we  wish 
to  track  his  philosophical  views  to  the  German  originals,  from 
which  it  is  unquestionable  that  many  of  them  have  sprung.  In 
the  case  of  a writer  so  powerful,  so  original,  and  so  full  of  native 
fire  and  genius,  it  is  a thankless  task  at  best  to  assign  a foreign  pa- 
ternity to  the  burning  thoughts,  that  we  find  scattered  with  no 
sparing  hand  almost  through  every  page.  That  Mr.  Carlyle  has 
learned  much  truth,  and  added  much  inspiration  to  the  force  of  his 
genius  from  the  literature  and  philosophy  of  Germany,  he  w’ould 
himself  be  among  the  first  to  own  ; but  his  sentiments  have  not 
been  so  much  borrowed  from  these  sources,  as  inspired  from  them  : 
he  has  used  these  philosophers  as  his  familiar  companions,  rather 
than  as  his  masters  ; and  instead  of  sitting  at  their  feet,  we  should 
rather  say  “ that  his  soul  has  burned  within  him  as  he  walked  with 
them  by  the  way.” 

It  is  in  vain  that  we  open  the  volumes,  which  have  come  from 
the  pen  of  this  fertile  writer,  in  order  to  find  there  a system  of  phi- 
losophy ; and  yet  his  philosophical  opinions  may  be  traced  there 
with  a clearness  and  a certainty  which  leave  no  room  either  for 
misunderstanding  or  doubt.  The  great  and  prominent  feature  of 
all  his  writings  is  a marked  contempt  for  the  shallow  objective  sen- 
sr  lionalism  of  the  age  we  live  in ; and  an  earnest  struggle  for  the 
re-establishment  of  an  exalted  and  a spiritual  philosophy.  He  has 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


509 


seen  clearly  and  felt  deeply,  that  the  objective  element  in  our 
knowledge  is  threatening  to  absorb  everything  else ; that  our  liter- 
ature, our  science,  our  laws,  morals,  politics,  and  religion,  are  all 
tainted  with  this  tendency ; and  he  considers  it  to  be  his  mission 
to  lift  up  the  voice  like  a trumpet,  in  order  to  w^arn  the  age  of  its 
folly  and  its  danger.  The  idea  of  self,  the  mind,  the  real  man,  he 
considers  as  having  degenerated  almost  into  that  of  a living  ma- 
chine, hardly  separated  by  a boundary  line  from  nature  in  her  vis- 
ible organization ; the  idea  of  the  eternal,  the  infinite,  the  divine, 
has  become  too  often  the  artificial  God  of  a sect  or  party  ; it  is  his 
aim,  therefore,  to  hold  up  these  two  fundamental  thoughts  again  to 
our  view,  to  show  their  great  reality,  and  to  infuse  by  this  means 
into  the  philosophy  and  feeling  of  the  age  precisely  the  two  elements, 
w'hich  it  has  either  marred  or  lost.  Whatever  be  the  subject  on 
which  he  writes  (and  he  writes  more  or  less  upon  nearly  all),  this 
aim  is  never  lost  sight  of,  nay,  appears  to  be  the  great  ruling 
thought  around  which  the  others  cluster  as  their  central  point.  If 
he  comes  upon  morals,  with  what  infinite  scorn  is  it  that  he  scouts 
and  tramples  upon  “the  Gospel  according  to  Jeremy  Bentham 
with  what  intensity  does  he  point  out  as  existing  in  God  the  reality 
of  an  eternal  justice,  and  in  man  the  reality  of  an  eternal  obliga- 
tion, that  must  break  down  every  passion  and  every  selfish  interest 
until  it  be  accomplished.  If  he  enters  the  wide  field  of  law  and 
politics,  you  see  him  impatiently  pushing  aside  all  the  clever  arith- 
metic of  law-makers,  and  statesmen,  and  grasping  at  once  the 
broad  principle  that  man  is  divine,  that  he  exists  here  under  great 
spiritual  laws,  and  that  it  is  in  vain  to  reckon  up  profit  and  loss, 
vain  to  number  ships  and  soldiers,  vain  to  balance  parties  and  in- 
terests, while  the  great  duties  between  man  and  man,  and  between 
man  and  God,  are  trodden  as  an  unholy  thing  in  the  dust. 

In  his  joyous  rambles  through  the  regions  of  elegant  literature 
and  poesy,  there  are  the  same  tendencies  apparent,  the  same  pur- 
poses kept  in  view.  “ The  pretty  story-telling  Walter  Scott,”  that 
required  no  thought  to  read  him,  that  spoke  not  to  the  inner  soul 
of  man,  that  described  only  the  visible,  and  had  no  eye  for  the  in- 
visible world,  finds  but  little  favor  in  the  stern  hands  of  our  spirit- 
ualist. The  snarling  impious  Byron,  the  poet  of  misanthropy, 
and  earthly  passion,  is  hardly  pitied  and  heartily  despised.  On 
the  contrary.  Burns,  Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  and  more  than  all, 
Goethe,  sing  music  to  his  inmost  spirit,  and  seem  to  revive  the 
long-silent  strains  of  Shakspeare,  of  Dante,  and  of  Homer. 


510 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Much  would  we  say  of  Carlyle’s  earnest  appeals  on  the  religion 
of  the  age,  were  we  not  afraid  to  venture  into  so  fruitful  and,  we 
might  almost  saj^  so  dangerous  a subject;  but  here,  too,  we  find 
him  uttering  Ins  lamentations  or  his  anathemas  against  the  hollow- 
hearted  formalism  of  Christendom,  against  the  s/ia/n-worship  which 
has  taken  the  place  of  the  undaunted  faith  and  burning  love  of  the 
prophets  and  apostles  of  God.  Without  distinction  of  name,  of 
rank,  or  of  popular  favor,  he  tears  the  mask  from  the  features  of 
hypocrisy,  and  places  again  and  again,  in  no  very  flattering  con- 
trast, the  pompous,  easy,  formal,  soulless  worship  that  is  seen  in 
many  a Christian  temple,  with  the  Hindoo,  the  Mohammedan,  or 
even  the  untutored  Indian,  who  sees  God  in  everything  he  sees, 
and  hears  him  in  everything  he  hears.  “Will  you  ever  be  calling 
heathenism  a lie,  worthy  of  damnation,  which  leads  its  devotee  to 
consecrate  all  upon  its  altars,  and  with  a wonder,  which  transcends 
all  your  logic,  bows  before  some  idol  of  nature ; while  those  who 
with  sleepy  heads  and  lifeless  spirits  meet  in  a framed  house,  and 
go  over  a different  set  of  forms,  are  the  only  elect  of  God  ? Clear 
thy  mind  of  cant ! Does  not  God  look  at  the  heart  ?”  With  a truly 
Platonic  contempt  for  the  material,  and  as  ardent  a love  for  the 
intellectual,  the  ideal,  the  Divine,  our  author  wanders  through  all 
the  regions  of  literature,  of  morals,  of  religion,  of  the  habits,  cus- 
toms, laws,  and  institutions  of  our  day,  cliastising  all  that  is  shallow 
and  insincere,  and  pleading  for  everything  that  is  earnest  and  true 
in  human  life. 

With  such  tendencies  of  mind,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  of  what 
nature  must  be  his  philosophy.  The  Scottish  metaphysics  he  re- 
spects as  being  in  its  day  a powerful  protest  against  sensationalism ; 
but  it  is  in  the  German  idealism  that  he  finds  his  true  element. 
There  he  meets  with  men  who  strive  to  look  through  the  world 
of  phenomena  into  that  of  absolute  reality ; there,  at  length,  he 
finds  the  world  of  matter  assigned  to  its  true  place  of  inferior  dig- 
nity, and  the  absolute,  the  real,  the  essential,  the  eternal,  raised  to 
its  lofty  position  in  the  contemplation  of  the  intellect,  and  the  af- 
fections of  the  heart. 

Had  Carlyle,  like  his  German  contemporaries,  fashioned  his  phi- 
losophy into  a system,  and  sent  it  into  the  world  all  bristling  with 
repulsive  words  and  formulas,  he  might  have  been  read  by  a few, 
and  lived  and  died  to  the  mass  unknown.  Instead  of  this,  how- 
ever, he  has  rushed  into  every  subject  of  popular  interest,  cast 
around  his  thoughts  the  drapery  of  bold  poetic  imagery,  and  thus 


THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 


511 


succeeded  in  carrying  his  philosophy  into  a thousand  avenues, 
which  it  had  otherwise  never  reached.  That  he  will  make  many 
feeble  imitators  is  a matter  of  certain  prediction,  nay,  already  of 
actual  experience  ; that  he  will  prove  a stumbling-block  to  many 
sceptical  minds,  who  have  an  eye  for  his  boldness  but  no  heart  for 
his  spiritualism,  is  equally  certain ; but,  assuredly,  we  have  no 
writer,  who  is  so  adapted  to  stem  the  current  of  empiricism,  and 
to  hurl  defiance  at  the  noisy  and  shallow  pretensions  of  the  mate- 
rialistic or  sensational  systems  of  the  age ; none  who  holds  so  im- 
portant a place  in  the  transition,  which  is  now  effecting,  from  the 
degenerated  philosophy  of  Locke  to  a new,  and,  we  trust,  a ra- 
tional idealism.  For  our  own  part  we  are  thankful  that  Carlyle 
has  lived,  thought,  and  written ; he  may  scandalize  the  few,  as 
every  bold  thinker  will,  but  the  world  in  the  end  will  be  the  better; 
it  will  be  a truer  and  an  honester  world  for  his  life  and  his  labors. 
That  he  should  have  involved  himself  in  certain  aberrations  of 
philosophy  and  good  sense  is  not  to  be  w’ondered  at.  No  man 
ever  wrote  so  earnestly  on  one  side  of  a question  without  doing 
so.  Disgusted  with  formalism,  he  has  shown  an  inclination  to 
make  sincerity  the  wJiole  test  of  moral  greatness.  He  tends  to 
make  Paul  the  persecutor  as  elevated  a hero  as  Paul  the  apostle. 
He  tends  to  sink  all  consideration  of  the  object  towards  which  our 
zeal  is  directed,  in  the  glory  of  the  zeal  itself.  Such  a principle, 
if  there  be  any  distinction  between  truth  and  untruth  in  the  world, 
we  must  learn  to  repudiate ; but  let  us  retain  the  deep  impression 
of  the  sentiment  he  so  earnestly  labors  to  inculcate, — that  all  our 
outward  life  is  destitute  of  moral  excellence,  while  the  soul  does 
not  act  w'ith  fervor  and  sincerity  and  godly  fear  within. 

The  influence  of  Carlyle’s  writings,  and  of  the  German  philoso- 
phy generally,  is  already  becoming  apparent  in  several  different 
quarters.  In  America  they  have  operated  powerfully,  especially 
upon  the  numerous  body  of  Unitarian  Christians  who  exist  there, 
turning  that  system  of  Christianity,  which  sprung  originally  from 
a sensational  philosophy,  into  a far  more  profound  and  a far  more 
spiritualized  system  of  religious  rationalism.  The  same  effect  is 
visible,  though  not  to  the  same  extent,  in  our  own  country.  The 
influence  of  the  German  philosophy  is  visible  among  the  more 
deep-thinking  of  the  Unitarians ; it  is  visible  in  a new  and  increas- 
ing party  in  the  Established  Church,  that  usually  denominated 
Young  England  ; it  is  visible  to  a certain  degree,  even  among 
those  reputed  to  be  most  rigidly  attached  to  their  symbols.  There 


512 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


can  be  little  doubt,  indeed,  but  that  theology,  without,  we  trust, 
giving  up  any  of  its  distinctive  features,  is  about  to  be  the  medium 
for  popularizing  and  spreading  some  of  the  main  principles  of  an 
idealistic  philosophy. 

In  the  meantime,  there  are  some  other  minor  manifestations  of 
sympathy  with  the  present  eclectic  philosophy  of  France,  spring- 
ing, too,  in  some  cases,  from  sources  where  it  was  least  to  be  ex- 
pected. Any  one  may  satisfy  himself  of  this  by  directing  his  at- 
tention to  a series  of  works  published  by  that  promoter  of  elegant 
typography,  William  Pickering,  termed  “ Small  books  on  great 
subjects.”  In  one  of  these  little  treatises,  entitled  “ Philosophical 
Theories  and  Philosophical  Experience,”  there  is  a new  psycholog- 
ical classification  of  our  mental  phenomena,  into — I.  Material  and 
Animal  Functions,  those  subjected  to  bodily  changes  ; and  II. 
Spiritual  and  Unchanging  Functions.  In  another  of  them,  writ- 
ten by  John  Barlow,  M.A.,  of  the  Royal  Society,  a professed  phys- 
iologist, there  is  a deduction  of  man’s  spirituality  and  immortality 
from  the  power  of  the  will : in  fact,  both  these  treatises  are  strongly 
characterized  by  their  giving  prominence  to  the  notion  and  the 
power  of  self,  and  assigning  it  its  due  place  in  their  metaphysical 
philosophy.  We  might  mention  also,  a treatise  of  Isaac  Preston 
Cory,  Esq.,  on  Metaphysical  Enquiry,  and  another  on  Logic  and 
the  Laws  of  Thought,  by  Rev.  Wm.  Thomson,  each  of  which 
gives  a pleasing  instance  of  the  growing  tendency,  which  now 
exists,  to  the  cultivation  of  the  abstract  and  metaphysical  sciences. 
The  latest  manifestation  of  the  now  rising  school  of  English  spirit- 
ualism, is  to  be  found  in  the  Hunterian  Oration,  delivered  by  J.  H. 
Green,  Esq.,  in  February  1847,  entitled  “Mental  Dynamics,  or 
Groundwork  of  a professional  Education.”  The  author  has  given 
in  the  Appendix,  a highly  interesting  classification  of  the  human 
faculties,  and  pointed  out  with  great  clearness,  the  principle  of 
self  consciousness- — of  the  me  regarded  in  the  light  of  subject  or 
noumenon — as  the  only  scientific  basis  of  a true  philosophy  both 
of  mind  and  morals.  What  the  hopes  of  the  next  generation  may 
be  we  do  not  now  inquire  ; but  we  shall,  perhaps,  find  an  oppor- 
nity  of  throwing  out  a few  speculations  on  this  subject,  when  we 
come  to  speak  of  the  tendencies  of  the  speculative  philosophy  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

The  modern  idealism  of  France  might,  perhaps,  naturally  be 
looked  for  under  this  chapter ; but,  as  it  has  assumed  the  eclectic 
form,  we  reserve  it  for  a separate  consideration. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MODERN  SCEPTICISM. 


Sect,  I. — Modern  Scepticism  generally — In  England. 

The  interest  that  attends  the  history  of  philosophy  in  any  age, 
will  always  attach  itself  mainly  to  the  two  opposed  schools  of  sen- 
sationalism and  idealism.  From  them  originate  most  of  the  deeper 
problems  upon  which  the  mind  of  man  delights  to  dwell,  and  to 
their  efforts  we  naturally  look,  to  have  those  problems  clearly 
solved.  It  is.  however,  one  of  the  most  universal  failings  of  hu- 
manity, to  run  into  extremes  in  different  directions.  Hardly  is  the 
necessity  realized  of  investigating  closely  the  facts  of  sensation, 
than  the  philosopher,  absorbed  in  this  object,  and  overwhelmed, 
perhaps,  with  the  variety,  magnitude,  and  number  of  the  phenom- 
ena presented,  makes  sensation  the  basis  of  every  mental  state, 
and,  in  the  same  proportion,  disparages  the  value  of  all  the  other 
faculties. 

But  the  opposite  extreme  is  equally  natural.  Reason,  as  all  ad- 
mit, is  the  noblest  part  of  mac,  for  it  regulates  and  guides  all  the 
rest.  Once,  then,  let  the  metaphysician  become  wrapped  in  the 
contemplation  of  its  grandeur,  and  he  will,  in  all  probability,  begin 
forthwith  to  detract  from  the  value  of  the  senses,  to  look  with  con- 
tempt upon  empirical  knowledge,  and  thus  to  lose  sight  of  one,  at 
least,  of  the  most  fertile  sources  of  our  ideas. 

The  abuses  both  of  sensationalism  and  idealism  have  been,  we 
trust,  already  sufficiently  portrayed.  In  the  former  case,  W'e  have 
seen  them  leading  to  egotism  in  morals,  atheism  in  religion,  and 
materialism  in  philosophy ; in  the  latter  case,  they  have  given  rise 
successively  to  religious  rationalism,  to  fatalism,  and  ultimately,  to 
complete  pantheism.  Now  the  logical  deduction  of  false  results  in 

33 


514 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


any  philosophical  system,  always  betrays  a falsity  in  one  or  more 
of  the  fundamental  data  from  which  they  are  evolved.  The  error, 
it  is  true,  may  be  invisible  ; yet,  if  such  conclusions  actually  clash 
with  the  indisputable  facts  of  daily  experience,  we  may  be  sure  that 
it  is  lurking  somewhere  in  the  foundations.  The  mind,  indeed, 
w hich  is  totally  given  up  to  system,  will  admit  many  a startling 
conclusion,  nay,  perhaps,  many  a contradictory  one,  without  any 
difficulty.  Full  of  confidence  in  the  principles  it  has  adopted,  it  is 
borne  along  with  the  stream  of  argument  to  all  their  results ; and 
should  insoluble  difficulties  arise,  it  leaves  them,  as  points  which 
transcend  the  powers  of  the  human  mind  to  unravel  or  to  compre- 
hend. There  is  a limit,  however,  at  which  the  force  of  system 
stops,  and  beyond  which  it  cannot  impose  upon  human  credulity ; 
and  when  this  limit  is  arrived  at,  not  only  does  the  mind  refuse  to 
advance  any  further,  but,  system  being  once  found  in  error,  a flood 
of  suspicion  pours  itself  even  over  those  conclusions  which  had 
been  heretofore  most  firmly  believed.  Such  is  the  origin  of  scep- 
ticism, which,  in  its  first  aspect,  is  really  nothing  more  than  the 
common  sense  of  mankind  rising  in  rebellion  against  the  authority 
of  the  current  philosophy  of  the  age. 

The  proper  office  of  scepticism  is  to  act  as  a check  or  drag  upon 
the  too  rapid  progress  of  all  dogmatical  systems.  As  such,  it  has 
been  eminently  beneficial  in  every  age  ; nay,  has  formed  an  indis- 
pensable movement  in  the  advancement  of  speculative  science.  It 
dispossesses  the  mind  of  man  of  its  excessive  love  of  system,  pulls 
down  its  blind  attachment  to  authority,  and  moves  out  of  the  path 
some  of  the  greatest  obstacles  which  oppose  the  investigation  of 
truth.  Never,  perhaps,  was  there  a philosophical  system  more 
widely  diffused,  more  deeply  inwrought  into  the  belief  of  mankind, 
and  more  sternly  contended  for,  than  that  of  Aristotle.  The  ideal 
theory  of  human  knowledge,  which  originated  there,  was  for  ages 
looked  upon  as  possessing  authority  almost  amounting  to  axiomatic 
certainty  ; and  it  must  have  appeared  little  less  than  madness  to 
attack  a belief  so  universal,  and  established,  m all  appearance,  for 
endless  perpetuity.  The  instrument,  however,  by  which  this  was 
overthrown,  was  the  scepticism  of  Hume.  It  was  he  who,  regard- 
less of  consequences,  carried  the  principles  in  question  to  their 
furthest  results,  showed  that  they  involved  in  tliem  universal  un- 
belief, and  thus  gave  them  virtually  their  first  refutation.  The 
scepticism  of  Hume,  which  may  be  called  a “ reductio  ad  ahsur- 
dum^'  aimed  against  the  ideal  system,  necessitated  a thorough  re- 


SCLiPTICISM  liV  ENGLAND. 


515 


consideration  of  the  very  first  elements  of  human  knowledge,  and 
was  instrumental  in  suggesting,  both  to  Kant  and  to  Reid,  the 
primary  idea  of  a philosophy  based  upon  sounder  principles. 

Had  scepticism  been  content  to  keep  within  its  proper  limits, 
and  quietly  to  perform  the  office  assigned  to  it,  it  would  have  ever 
appeared  in  the  light  of  a friend  and  benefactor ; but,  not  content 
with  pronouncing  the  actually  existing  systems  to  be  in  error,  it 
often  seeks  to  advance  still  further,  and  affirms  that  no  possible 
system  of  philosophy  can  develop  any  truth  whatever  with  absolute 
certainty.  Here,  then,  having  resisted  and  exposed  the  errors  of 
others,  it  falls  itself  into  the  most  startling  errors  of  all,  and  having 
proffered  a blessing  with  one  hand,  withdraws  it  with  the  other. 

Now,  in  taking  a general  view  of  scepticism,  we  must  point  out 
as  clearly  as  possible  the  different  aspects  which  it  assumes,  since 
in  doing  this  we  shall  be  the  better  able  to  estimate  the  amount  of 
influence  it  is  now  exerting  in  our  own  country.  Scepticism,  then, 
regarded  generically,  may  be  divided  into  three  subordinate  spe- 
cies, which  we  may  term  absolute  scepticism,  authoritative  scepti- 
cism, and  the  scepticism  of  ignorance. 

1.  By  absolute  scepticism  we  mean,  a disposition  of  mind  to  ad- 
mit nothing  as  absolutely  true,  accompanied  with  a formal  denial 
of  the  certainty  of  any  branch  of  human  knowledge.  This  species 
of  scepticism,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  must  be  rare,  and  when 
it  does  appear,  must  be  altogether  limited  to  the  more  thinking 
classes  of  mankind.  The  natural  and  healthy  state  of  the  human 
mind  is  one  of  belief.  We  instinctively  give  credit  to  our  senses, 
our  memory,  our  reason,  our  moral  sentiments ; and  ere  distrust  in 
any  of  them  is  experienced,  a considerable  process  of  thinking  and 
of  reasoning  must  have  passed  through  the  intellect.  Ordinarily 
speaking,  men  have  neither  the  leisure  nor  the  taste  to  sit  down 
and  investigate  the  foundations  of  knowledge,  and,  consequently, 
they  give  themselves  up,  without  any  hesitation,  to  their  natural 
and  instinctive  beliefs.  It  is  only  here  and  there,  in  men  of  deep 
reflection — men  who  have  gone,  or  imagined  that  they  have  gone, 
to  the  very  bottom  of  those  foundations — that  any  idea  is  enter- 
tained of  the  absolute  uncertainty  of  the  whole  superstructure. 

The  natural  history  of  this  species  of  scepticism  may  be  briefly 
portrayed  in  the  following  manner.  We  will  suppose  a man, 
vigorous  in  his  natural  capacities,  earnest  in  his  purposes,  and 
eagerly  devoted  to  the  investigation  of  truth.  Too  penetrating  to 
be  imposed  upon  by  vulgar  modes  of  thinking— too  independent  to 


516 


MODER\  PHILOSOPHY. 


iidmit,  without  testing,  the  common  opinions  of  those  around  him 
— he  scatters  the  faith  of  his  childhood  to  the  winds,  and  seeks  to 
recast,  for  his  own  satisfaction,  the  primary  elements  of  his  real 
philosophical  belief.  In  doing  so,  he  soon  finds  himself  involved  in 
questions  of  the  most  intricate  nature.  The  more  easy  and  super- 
ficial problems  are  spurned  with  contempt ; he  wants  to  go  at  once 
to  first  principles,  and  to  convince  himself  that  everything  there  is 
firm  and  stable.  To  his  grief  and  astonishment,  however,  he  finds 
that  those  fundamental  questions,  upon  which  everything  else  must 
rest,  are  among  the  most  difficult,  both  of  comprehension  and  of 
proof.  The  greatest  minds  of  former  ages,  he  discovers,  have  in 
this  region  perpetually  lost  their  way ; and  he  sees  nought  in  pros- 
pect but  a conflict  of  opinions,  as  endless  as  it  must  be  unsatisfac- 
tory. In  his  perplexity,  he  appeals  to  the  great  dogmatical  systems 
which  have  had  the  chief  reputation  in  the  world ; he  tracks  the 
history  of  them  from  Plato  down  to  Kant ; and  the  probable  con- 
sequence is,  that  the  arguments  of  the  one  party  completely  neu- 
tralize those  of  the  other.  In  this  painful  position,  the  fearful  ques- 
tion begins  to  dawn  upon  his  mind, — Is  there  such  a thing  as  truth 
at  all  ■?  Can  we  have  a certainty  upon  anything  ? Are  we  not  the 
sport  of  an  ignorance  which  dazzles  only  to  delude  us  with  the 
hope  of  absolute  truth  ? Such  a thought,  once  entertained,  acts 
like  a spell  upon  all  his  researches,  and  throws  suspicion  over  every 
argument.  It  gains  force  from  the  very  fact,  that  it  seems  so 
plainly  to  unfold  the  causes  from  which  the  contests  and  disagree- 
ments of  philosophy  have  arisen.  A disgust  at  all  dogmatism  next 
ensues ; and  at  length  he  determines  to  rest  in  the  conviction  that 
each  man  must  see  truth  for  himself  alone,  because  absolute  truth 
lies  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  faculties. 

This  disposition  to  universal  unbelief,  then,  being  once  fixed  in 
the  mind,  it  soon  manifests  itself  upon  almost  every  subject  that 
lies  open  to  human  research.  It  begins,  of  course,  by  attacking  the 
ground-principles  of  philosophical  truth, — in  one  breath  denying 
the  certain  existence  of  the  material  world,  and  in  another,  that  of 
the  spiritual ; thus  leaving,  ultimately,  nought  but  a bundle  of  im- 
pressions and  ideas.  Next,  it  loosens  the  strong  band  of  moral  ob- 
ligation. Virtue  to  it  is  either  a nonentity,  or  but  another  name 
for  that  which  produces  pleasure ; and  vice  is  a similar  cipher,  ex- 
cept it  be  that  which  produces  pain  ; but  as  to  the  word  duty,  it  has 
absolutely  no  meaning,  since  no  obligation  can  be  shown  why  I 
should  pursue  happiness  as  my  aim  any  more  than  misery.  Next,- 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


517 


the  foundations  of  man’s  natural  religion  fall  under  its  stroke. 
Men  may  have  (grants  the  sceptic)  each  one  for  himself,  the  idea 
of  God,  and  this  idea  may  prove  very  beneficial  in  directing  or 
constraining  his  actions  ; but  who  is  to  prove  that  objective  reality 
is  to  be  attached  to  it  ? In  a word,  once  let  confidence  be  shaken 
in  the  veracity  of  our  natural  faculties,  and  there  is  not  a buttress 
left  to  support  any  portion  of  the  edifice  of  truth. 

Now  the  philosophical  error,  which  lurks  in  the  principle  of  ab- 
solute scepticism,  is  by  no  means  difficult  to  discover  and  expose ; 
in  fact,  as  a system,  it  carie  swilhin  itself  its  own  refutation.  The 
sceptic  distrusts  the  veracity  of  man’s  natural  faculties ; but  by 
what  means,  we  would  ask  him,  has  he  arrived  at  this,  his  startling 
conclusion  ? Of  course,  by  the  use  of  his  faculties — the  very  facul- 
ties which  he  distrusts.  But  if  our  reason  is  ever  leading  us  astray 
in  other  matters,  and  if  it  never  suffers  us  to  attain  certainty,  then 
why  may  it  not  have  led  the  sceptic  himself  astray  ? or  on  what 
ground  can  he  affirm  the  certainty  of  the  conclusion  to  which  he 
has  arrived  ? The  sceptic,  above  all  men,  is  fond  of  employing  the 
power  of  reasoning,  in  order  to  pull  down  the  systems  which  exist 
around  him  ; but  if  he  has  already  undermined  the  veracity  of  rea- 
son itself,  why  does  he  believe  his  own  arguments  ] Why  not 
take  for  granted,  that  he  is  as  far  wrong  in  pulling  down  as  others 
may  have  been  in  building  up  ? For  an  absolute  sceptic  to  argue 
at  all  is  a piece  of  folly,  only  second  to  the  folly  of  those  who  argue 
with  him.  If  there  is  no  credence  to  be  given  to  the  working  of 
our  intellectual  powers,  the  former,  for  consistency’s  sake,  might 
spare  himself  the  trouble  of  using  them  against  the  belief  of  his 
neighbors ; and  the  latter  might,  with  equal  propriety,  avoid  the 
useless  task  of  arguing  wuth  one,  who  professedly  has  no  faith  in 
argument.  The  sceptic,  in  fact,  writes  at  once  his  own  defence 
and  his  own  reply : he  may  make  out  the  best  possible  case  against 
his  opponents ; but  then  who,  of  all  those  whom  he  convinces  of 
the  futility  of  human  reason  generally,  will  be  likely  to  pay  any 
respect  to  his  own  application  of  it  ? The  only  rational  effect  of 
scepticism,  when  it  is  carried  to  this  length,  is  to  throw  aside  all 
the  weapons  of  philosophy  together,  and  let  the  world  quietly  go 
on  as  it  does,  without  either  encouragement  or  restraint.  In  other 
words,  the  inffuence  of  it,  rationally  considered,  is  equal  to  zero. 

If  this  be  the  case,  then,  it  might  be  said,  why  is  it  worth  while 
to  oppose  a sceptical  system,  which  rationally  has  no  influence 
whatever  for  good  or  for  evil  ? We  answer,  because  men  -will 


518 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


make  an  irrational  use  of  it,  and  we  wish  to  cut  off  the  plea  which 
it  affords  them  for  doing  or  thinking  what  is  evil.  The  mere  as- 
sertion of  sceptical  principles  in  the  abstract,  is  of  extremely  little 
consequence,  as  they  exert  in  this  way  hardly  any  perceptible  in- 
fluence upon  the  conduct  of  any  one ; but,  unfortunately,  there  is 
ever  a sufhciency  of  half-ignorant  minds,  who,  without  having 
depth  enough  to  see  the  inconclusiveness  of  scepticism  as  a whole, 
are  very  ready  to  catch  at  the  notion  of  the  universal  uncertainty 
of  all  human  knowledge,  and  to  urge  it  in  opposition  to  everything 
that  is  good  or  great,  whether  in  religion,  morals,  or  philosophy. 
Thus  the  loss  of  confidence  in  the  powers  of  the  mind  soon  makes 
itself  felt,  more  or  less,  in  every  department  of  science  ; it  re- 
presses exertion,  fosters  a contempt  for  all  systematic  truth,  weak- 
ens the  ties  of  moral  obligation,  and  tends  to  the  degeneracy, 
rather  than  to  any  advancement  of  the  human  race. 

Absolute  scepticism,  as  now  explained,  has  fortunately,  at  pres- 
ent, no  decided  representative  in  this  country.  Its  last  great  ad- 
vocate was  David  Hume,  who  for  a time  gave  origin  and  support 
to  a class  of  petty  unbelievers,  that  without  entering  into  the  depth 
of  his  argument,  much  less  seeing  its  self-refutation,  learned,  not- 
withstanding-, to  sneer  at  evidence  and  despise  truth.  This  spirit 
was  arrested  at  least  to  some  extent,  by  Reid,  and  others  of  like 
views,  who  combated,  step  by  step,  so  earnestly  for  the  reality  of 
our  knowledge,  that  a sweeping  unbelief  has  not  as  yet,  during  the 
present  century,  made  its  re-appearance  in  this  Island.  Many,  it 
is  true,  are  the  different  faiths  now  in  vogue  throughout  the  com- 
munity ; but  amongst  these  we  hardly  find  one,  the  principle  of 
which  is  to  have  no  faith  at  all.  We  go  on,  therefore,  to  de- 
scribe— 

2.  The  scepticism  which  bases  itself  upon  authority. 

It  is  possible  to  deny  the  capability  of  the  human  mind  to  gain 
absolute  knowledge  for  itself,  without  denying  the  fact  that  such 
knowledge  is  actually  in  our  possession.  If,  e.  g.,  we  supposed 
truth  to  be  infused  into  us  miraculously,  we  might  in  this  way 
avoid  the  sweeping  conclusion,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  truth 
at  all  cognizable  to  man,  whilst  at  the  same  time  we  might  regard 
the  self-acquisition  of  it  as  altogether  impracticable.  Now  this 
exactly  describes  the  opinions  of  many,  who  look  upon  tradition 
or  the  Sci'iptures  as  the  only  source  of  absolute  truth,  and  who, 
standing  upon  the  platform  of  revelation,  scout  at  the  very  notion 
of  philosophy. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


519 


The  system  of  opinions  to  which  we  now  refer,  is  somewhat  of 
the  following  kind.  Man,  whatever  he  might  have  been  in  his 
first  creation,  is  now  naturally  blind  and  foolish  ; his  reason  is 
perverted ; his  moral  nature  overturned  ; and  he  is  thus  rendered 
totally  unfit  for  the  great  office  of  acquiring  knowledge,  with  any 
perfect  degree  of  certainty.  Upon  this  state  of  helpless  darkness 
the  light  of  revelation  dawns ; the  shadows  of  ignorance  grad- 
ually disperse ; and  a source  is  opened  from  which  we  may  at 
length  gain  fixed  and  eternal  truth — an  acquisition  otherwise  im- 
possible. Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  question  here  is  by  no 
means,  whether  or  no  revelation  unfolds  to  us  truths  which  could 
not  have  been  attained  by  us  in  any  other  way : this  is  admitted 
by  all  who  hold  the  special  inspiration  of  the  Bible.  The  question 
is,  whether  all  moral  truth  must  be  derived  from  thence,  or  whether 
some  absolute  knowledge  cannot  be  attained  by  man,  quite  inde- 
pendent of  supernatural  assistance.  Those  who  hold  revelation  to 
be  the  only  source  of  certain  knowledge  to  man,  would,  no  doubt, 
start  at  being  ranked  under  the  title  of  sceptics,  and  yet,  in  truth, 
this  principle  contains  the  germ  of  a scepticism,  under  which  both 
religion  and  philosophy  would  soon  be  seen  to  expire. 

Let  us  weigh  this  question  a little.  The  human  faculties,  it  is 
urged,  are  perverted  : there  is  no  confidence  to  be  placed  in  them  ; 
they  lead  us  astray  at  every  step.  How  then,  we  ask,  can  we  be 
ever  assured  that  the  revelation,  to  which  we  apply  for  light,  is  a 
true  one  ? The  veracity  of  it,  as  far  as  our  convictions  go,  must 
rest  upon  a process  of  reasoning.  W e must  collect  evidence  ; we 
must  decide  what  is  valid  as  evidence,  and  what  is  not ; and  then 
from  this  we  must  draw  our  inference  respecting  the  truth  of  the 
revelation  itself.  What,  then,  are  the  instruments  by  which  all 
these  processes  are  carried  on,  and  by  which  the  ultimate  conclu- 
sion is  at  length  arrived  at?  Of  course  our  own  reasoning  facul- 
ties. But  these  faculties  are  said  to  be  fallacious : why,  then,  may 
they  not  have  failed  us  in  this  particular  argument  ? If  we  can- 
not trust  to  their  decisions  generally,  what  certainty  is  there  in 
that  revelation,  upon  the  truth  of  which  they  alone  can  decide  ? 

The  argument  becomes  still  stronger,  when  we  pass  from  the 
question  of  revelation  to  that  of  the  being  of  God.  Without  this 
truth  already  established,  inspiration  is  a word  without  any  mean- 
ing whatever.  But  how  is  it  established,  except  by  the  inferences 
of  our  own  reason  ? To  undermine  the  authority  of  reason,  there- 
fore, is  to  undermine  that  of  revelation  as  well ; once  destroy  the 


520 


MODEEN  PHILOSOPHY. 


validity  of  the  subjective  world  within,  and  there  can  be  no  longer 
a certainty  left  in  any  objective  reality.  The  scepticism,  there- 
fore, which  builds  itself  up  upon  authority,  is  in  its  nature  incon- 
clusive. It  holds  some  truths  as  absolutely  sure  ; but  if  it  could 
only  expand  its  own  principles  to  their  legitimate  extent,  it  would 
discover  that  the  knowledge  which  it  allows  is  no  more  certain 
than  that  which  it  rejects.;  nay,  that  the  truth  of  the  one  is  indis- 
solubly connected  with  the  truth  of  the  other. 

Whatever  scepticism  now  exists  in  England  is,  we  imagine, 
nearly  all  of  this  kind.  The  philosophic  spirit  is  with  us,  for  the 
most  part,  at  a low  ebb,  whilst  the  religious  is  developing  itself  often 
with  great  intensity.  The  effect  of  this  is  to  depress  the  value  of 
metaphysical  truth,  and  to  hold  up  that  of  revelation  as  altogether 
independent  of  it.  Our  ordinary  religious  literature  abounds  in 
crude  assertions  of  this  nature.  Many  of  those  who  write  for  the 
religious  public,  conscious  that  they  never  thought  themselves 
clear  upon  any  of  the  first  principles  of  truth,  suppose  that  no  one 
else  has ; conscious  that  their  own  reason  is  inconclusive  in  its 
researches,  they  stamp  the  whole  reason  of  mankind  as  equally  so ; 
assured  that  their  own  knowledge  is  taken  entirely  upon  trust 
from  tradition  or  the  Scriptures,  they  suppose  that  all  men  must 
take  theirs  from  the  same  source.  Men  who  have  been  brought 
up  to  a certain  belief,  and  whose  minds  have  never  broken  away 
from  the  blind,  but  confiding  faith  of  their  infancy,  have  not,  in 
many  instances,  the  slightest  idea  of  the  amount  or  the  kind  of 
evidence,  which  would  be  necessary  to  prove  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity to  a mind  without  any  faith  at  all.  Their  own  belief  is  in 
no  sense  whatever  the  result  of  evidence,  but  simply  a matter  of 
education  ; and  consequently  it  is  no  wonder  if  they  commit  mis- 
takes with  respect  to  the  real  evidence  upon  which  such  knowl- 
edge must  ultimately  rest.  This  contempt  of  philosophy,  into 
which  the  religious  world  so  frequently  falls,  we  feel  convinced,  is 
extremely  detrimental  to  the  best  interests  of  religious  truth. 
While  it  may  here  and  there  deter  a solitary  mind  from  involving 
itself  in  the  web  of  human  sophistry,  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  infus- 
ing into  many  other  minds  strong  prejudices  against  admitting  the 
full  claims  of  revelation,  and  weakening  the  evidences  of  it  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  do. 

It  is  a fact,  not  to  be  disputed,  that  some  of  the  most  enlightened 
minds  of  the  day  have  nurtured  a secret  opposition  to  the  doc- 
trines of  Christianity,  owing  to  the  intellectual  intolerance  of  its 


SCEPTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


521 


abettors.  And  whilst  such  intolerance  lasts,  can  it  possibly  be 
otherwise  ? Is  not  every  mind  impelled  to  the  admission  of  all 
truth,  the  evidence  of  which  it  has  itself  thoroughly  evolved  ? 
Did  not  the  same  God,  which  speaks  in  revelation,  create  the 
powers  of  the  human  spirit  ? and  when  Christianity  is  made  to 
contradict  and  repel  the  natural  results  of  our  own  faculties,  or 
the  utterances  of  our  moral  nature,  yea,  to  deny  the  certainty  of 
that  upon  which  its  own  evidence  rests,  is  it  to  be  wondered  at, 
that  the  prejudices  of  men  should  be  aroused  and  their  assent  re- 
fused ? We  regard  the  believer,  who  would  raise  the  value  of 
religion  by  invalidating  the  due  authority  of  human  reason,  as 
committing  an  error  which  in  time  must  prove  fatal  to  his  own 
belief.  To  mention  any  particular  works,  in  which  this  species  of 
scepticism  is  discoverable,  would  be  a task  more  inviduous  than 
useful ; we  merely  point  out  the  general  fact,  that  .such  a method 
of  viewing  things  is  but  too  common  in  our  own  country,  and 
shall  rest  content  with  having  thus  briefly,  but  firmly  recorded  our 
protest  against  it. 

3.  There  is  yet  a third  species  of  scepticism  claiming  our  at- 
tention, to  which  we  have  given  the  name  of  the  “ scepticism  of 
ignorance.”  This  is  peculiar  to  the  less  educated  and  more  un- 
thinking portion  of  mankind.  Men,  in  general,  as  we  have  already 
remarked,  impose  a most  implicit  reliance  upon  the  evidence  of 
their  senses  and  their  faculties,  which  it  is  almost  impossible  for 
anything  to  shake.  But  there  lie,  beyond  these,  certain  other 
great  principles  of  belief,  absolutely  necessary  to  the  repose  and 
well-being  of  the  human  mind,  the  confidence  in  which  varies, 
even  amongst  the  larger  masses  of  mankind,  in  different  ages  and 
in  different  countries. 

Man  requires  faith  in  moral  obligation,  faith  in  God,  faith  in  im- 
mortality ; and  this  faith  cannot  be  shaken  wdthout  at  the  same 
time  endangering  the  very  framework  of  human  society.  Faith 
in  these  great  objects,  it  is  true,  always  forms  a constituent  part 
of  the  religion  of  the  age,  so  that  want  of  belief  in  them  might  be 
termed  religious  scepticism,  with  which  we  have  at  present  noth- 
ing to  do ; but  so  far  as  unbelief  touches  the  great  fundamental 
principles  of  natural  religion,  in  so  far  it  is,  strictly  speaking,  a 
philosophical,  as  well  as  a religious  scepticism.  There  have  been 
in  the  history  of  the  world  eras  of  intense  faith,  as  well  as  eras  of 
general  unbelief  upon  these  matters ; and  it  is  the  latter  which  we 
now  note  down  as  being  characterized  by  the  scepticism  of  igno- 


522 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ranee.  Current  systems  of  belief  (as  was  the  case  at  the  Refor- 
mation) will  sometimes,  from  various  causes,  be  shaken  to  their 
very  centre,  and  then  the  community  at  large,  sympathizing  in 
the  work  of  destruction,  are  apt  to  go  onwards  with  it,  until  they 
have  left  no  temple  of  faith  at  all,  in  which  they  may  worship. 
The  next  generation,  accordingly,  ill  grow  up  uneducated  in  any 
belief ; and,  as  the  consequence  of  this,  there  will  ensue  a scepti- 
cism, not  arising  from  any  designed  rejection  of  the  spiritual  faith 
of  humanity,  but  from  actual  ignorance  of  what  there  is  to  believe 
in.  Such,  to  a great  extent,  is  the  present  state  of  France,  and 
such  a phenomenon,  in  some  few  instances,  is  seen  in  our  own 
countiy,  amongst  those  classes  in  which  infidelity  has  most  fre- 
quently taken  up  its  abode.  Happily,  however,  the  diffusion  of 
religious  truth  is  too  general  in  this  country  to  admit  the  return 
(except,  indeed,  under  most  extraordinary  circumstances)  of  an- 
other age  of  unbelief  in  the  groundwork  of  man’s  natural  religious 
sentiments.  Of  the  three  forms  of  scepticism  we  have  mentioned, 
it  is  the  second  only  from  which  anything  is  at  present  to  be  ap- 
prehended. For  absolute  scepticism  we  have  too  little  philosophy, 
for  the  scepticism  of  ignorance  we  have  too  much  religion ; with 
regard,  however,  to  the  scepticism  of  authority,  we  cannot  con- 
ceal our  fear,  that  should  the  theological  odium  pursue  the  spirit 
of  philosophy  with  the  rancor  which  has  too  often  been  experi- 
enced, the  result  must  in  time  prove  fatal  to  the  best  interests  of 
morality  and  of  religion  itself. 


Sect.  II. — Modern  Scepticism  in  France. 

The  state  of  France,  philosophically  speaking,  previous  to  the 
Revolution,  has  been  already  glanced  at  in  the  chapter  which 
traces  the  history  of  sensationalism  from  Bacon  down  to  modern 
times.  We  have  seen,  moreover,  in  another  chapter,  the  main 
features,  which  French  philosophy  assumed,  when  the  storm  of  the 
Revolution  had  passed  away,  and  the  comparative  repose  of  the 
present  century  had  commenced.  The  principles  of  Condillac,  to 
whose  writings  the  philosophic  spirit  seemed  then  to  revert,  we 
have  noticed  developing  themselves  successively  in  the  physiologi- 
cal theories  of  Cabanis,  in  the  metaphysics  of  Destutt  de  Tracy, 
and  in  the  ethics  of  Volney. 

The  triumph  of  sensationalism,  however,  was  not  destined  to  be 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


523 


of  long  duration.  Every  extravagant  and  one-sided  system  con- 
tains, in  fact,  the  seeds  of  its  own  overthrow,  refuting  its  assumed 
data  by  means  of  the  very  consequences  to  which  they  lead.  A 
striking  example  of  this  is  seen  in  the  materialism  of  France. 
The  germ  of  the  modern  eclectic  philosophy  began  to  appear 
amongst  the  very  triumphs  of  the  materialistic  school : and  then 
commenced  the  struggle  which  has  now  brought  about  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  former  and  the  humiliation  of  the  latter.  The  rise 
and  progress  of  the  eclectic  philosophy,  however,  we  have  yet  to 
exhibit ; our  present  business  is  to  track  the  footsteps  of  those  dif- 
ferent forms  of  scepticism  which  have  arisen  out  of  the  contest. 

The  sensationalism  of  France  was  eminently  irreligious.  It 
delighted  to  scoff  at  all  veneration  for  the  Divine,  to  shock  man’s 
deepest  sentiments  of  spiritual  duty,  and  to  substitute  the  indefinite 
idea  of  nature  for  that  of  the  living  God.  The  opponents  of  sen- 
sationalism, in  the  meantime,  taking  up  another  hypothesis,  showed 
many  indications  of  running  into  the  opposite  extreme  of  panthe- 
ism ; the  pantheistic  principle  being,  in  fact,  equally  fatal  to  the 
cultivation  of  an  intelligent  and  efficient  theism  as  the  atheistic 
itself.  The  natural  effect  of  these  results  upon  many  minds  must 
be  at  once  obvious.  The  utterance  of  man’s  natural  reason, 
whether  it  flow  in  the  sensational  or  ideal  direction,  being  made  to 
appear  in  plain  contradiction  to  our  indestructible  religious  senti- 
ments, a distrust  of  the  power  of  reason  naturally  followed,  and 
confirmed  scepticism,  at  length,  made  its  appearance  on  the  stage. 
This  scepticism  naturally  placed  itself  in  opposition  to  the  irre- 
ligious tendency  of  the  age  ; and  as  the  other  current  philosophies 
seemed  to  undermine  the  authority  of  revelation  in  favor  of  reason, 
it,  on  the  contrary,  sought  to  substitute  for  reason  the  dictates  of 
revelation.  The  most  decisive  philosophical  scepticism  of  France, 
accordingly,  is  that  which  bases  itself  upon  authority,  and  aims  at 
restoring  the  power  and  influence  of  the  Church.  To  this  school, 
then,  we  must  now  briefly  revert. 

The  idea  of  appealing  to  Divine  authority,  and  bolstering  up  the 
weakness  of  our  natural  reason  by  the  cultivation  of  our  faith,  was 
widely  diffused  throughout  France  in  the  seventeenth  century,  by 
the  writings  of  Huet,  Bishop  of  Avranches.  Huet  may  be  re- 
garded philosophically  as  the  type  and  exemplar  of  the  sceptics  to 
whom  we  are  now  referring ; and  just  in  like  manner  as  his  views 
came  forth  from  the  rival  schools  of  Gassendi  and  Descartes,  so 


624 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


theirs  have  come  from  the  similar  contest  of  the  materialists  and 
eclectics  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  Count  Joseph  de  Maistre  (born  1753,  died  1821)  appears 
to  have  been  one  ol  the  earliest  of  these  modern  theologico-philo- 
sophical  writers — one,  too,  who,  by  the  liveliness  of  his  style,  and  the 
fertility  of  his  fancy,  no  less  than  by  the  gloominess  of  his  opinions, 
was  well  adapted  to  excite  the  attention,  though  not  perhaps  to  gain 
the  suffrages,  of  his  countrymen.  M.  de  Maistre,  it  is  true,  can 
hardly  be  called  in  strictness  a philosophical  writer  at  all,  so  entirely 
does  the  religious  element  preponderate  over  the  metaphysical ; yet, 
still,  the  whole  tone  of  his  thinking  was  such,  as  to  prepare  the 
way  for  future  speculations,  and  still  more  decided  attacks  upon 
the  validity  of  our  natural  faculties.  There  are  three  principal 
works  in  which  he  has  explained  his  views  upon  human  society  and 
human  life.  The  first,  published  in  the  year  1819,  is  “On  the 
Authority  and  Office  of  the  Pope,”  the  object  of  which  work  was 
to  show,  that  his  Holiness  is  a universal  appeal  for  mankind,  not 
only  in  spiritual  matters,  but  in  social  and  political  also ! The 
second  is  “ On  the  Galilean  Church,  in  relation  to  the  Sovereign 
Pontiff.”  The  third  of  these  works,  published  posthumously  in 
the  year  1821,  is  entitled  “Evenings  at  St.  Petersburg,  or  Con- 
versations on  the  Temporal  Government  of  Providence;”  and  it 
is  here  that  he  has,  at  once,  given  his  meditations  upon  some 
of  the  most  profound  problems  of  human  life,  and  proposed  their 
solution. 

The  chief  design  of  this  work,  as  the  title  indicates,  is  to  explain 
and  to  vindicate  the  conduct  of  Providence  in  relation  to  man  in 
the  present  world.  The  lot  of  humanity  is  to  suffer.  From  this 
none  are  exempt,  although  the  wicked  may  in  the  long  run  suffer 
much  more  than  the  virtuous.  The  cause  of  this  suffering  M.  de 
Maistre  traces  up  very  consecutively  to  original  sin,  taking  the 
orthodox  doctrine  of  the  church  as  his  guide  throughout  the  whole 
discussion.  The  means  by  which  suffering  is  to  be  alleviated,  he 
considers,  are  prayer-  and  merit,  the  one  securing  us  the  constant 
favor  of  God,  the  other  allowing  the  supererogatory  righteousness 
of  the  saints  to  stand  in  the  place  of  the  deficient  righteousness  of 
the  sinner.  As  theology,  these  sentiments,  of  course,  must  stand 
or  fall  according  to  the  evidence  of  a purely  authoritative  nature, 
which  can  be  shown  for  or  against  them.  The  deceptiveness 
which  runs  through  the  whole  work,  scientifically  speaking,  arises 
from  its  being  tacitly  taken  for  granted,  that  there  can  be  no  valid 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FKANCE. 


525 


philosophy  of  human  nature  which  does  not  build  itself  up  upon 
these  foundations  of  inspired  authority. 

Far  would  we  be  from  detracting  aught  from  the  inestimable 
value  of  revelation,  or  from  denying  the  light  which  it  casts  upon 
human  life  ; but  it  does  not  follow  from  the  truth  or  authority  of 
revelation,  that  our  reason  must  necessarily  be  weak  and  delusive 
in  those  subjects,  which  are  not  exclusively  of  a religious  nature. 
There  is  assuredly  enough  of  truth  accessible  to  our  minds  in  the 
intellectual  and  moral  constitution  of  man  wherewith  to  erect  a 
system  of  philosophy,  without  the  aid  of  revelation ; nay,  upon  the 
philosophical  accuracy  of  our  knowing  faculties  depends  the  value, 
even  of  revelation  itself,  which,  like  everything  else,  must  be  known 
through  their  medium.  Whilst,  therefore,  we  would  willingly 
allow  M.  de  Maistre,  or  any  one  else,  the  “ liberty  of  prophesying,” 
i.  e.,  of  treating  and  arguing  theology,  as  theology,  upon  its  proper 
evidence,  we  cannot  for  a moment  allow  their  right  of  intrenching 
themselves  within  the  authority  of  the  Church,  and  claiming  a 
complete  dictatorship  over  the  philosophical  or  even  the  religious 
belief  of  mankind. 

Such  dogmatism  it  is  the  more  necessary  to  resist,  when  we 
consider  the  conclusions  which  are  drawn  from  it.  As  mankind 
exists,  says  our  author,  in  the  present  world,  only  by  suffering  to 
atone  for  the  sin  of  the  fall,  he  ought  meekly  to  yield  to  every 
misery  that  is  inflicted  upon  him  for  that  purpose.  Amongst  other 
methods  of  extracting  penance,  God  has  appointed  human  power 
to  restrain  the  license  of  the  will,  and  this  power,  consequently, 
best  answers  its  purpose  when  most  stringent  and  severe.  The 
duty  of  mankind,  then,  politically,  is  abject  submission  to  authority ; 
and,  as  all  authority  delegated  by  God  centres  in  the  Pope,  we 
must  in  everything  yield  implicit  obedience  to  him,  whatever  he 
may  inflict  or  command.  When  sentiments  like  these  are  syste- 
matically deduced, — sentiments  which  turn  the  world  into  a pur- 
gatory, man  into  a slave,  and  human  life  into  gloom,  it  is,  assuredly, 
high  time  to  hold  up  either  to  ridicule  or  to  reprobation  the  intol- 
erant dogmatism  in  which  they  are  nursed  and  cradled.  Let  a 
religionist  dogmatize  upon  theology,  speculatively  considered,  as 
much  as  he  will ; but  never  let  him.  enslave  mankind  under  the 
yoke,  or  on  the  plea  of  his  crude  opinions. 

M.  de  Maistre,  in  addition  to  the  works  above  mentioned,  left 
also  behind  him  a treatise  entitled  “ Examen  de  la  Philosophie  de 
Bacon,”  which  was  published  in  the  year  1836.  Seldom  has  a 


526 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


more  trenchant  and  amusing  polemick  been  carried  on,  than  that 
which  is  contained  within  these  two  Amlumes.  The  author,  exas 
perated  against  all  philosophy,  especially  that  of  a sensational  ten- 
dency, rushes  forth  against  his  opponent  with  an  earnestness  and  a 
blind  determination,  which  refuses  to  recognize  a single  virtue  or 
excellence  attaching  to  the  labors  of  his  whole  life.  Take  the  fol- 
lowing specimen  of  the  satire  he  pours  forth  against  the  much 
admired  style  of  the  English  philosopher. 

“ The  style  of  Bacon,”  he  remarks,  (vol.  i.  p.  56,)  “demonstrates 
his  entire  incapacity  in  all  matters  of  philosophy.  His  style  is,  so 
to  speak,  material ; he  only  exercises  his  mind  upon  forms,  masses, 
and  movements.  His  thought  seems,  if  we  may  so  say,  to  corpo- 
rize  itself,  and  to  incorporate  itself  with  the  objects  which  alone 
occupy  it.  Every  abstract  expression,  every  word  of  the  intelli- 
gence, which  contemplates  itself,  displeases  him.  He  refers  to  the 
schools  every  idea  which  does  not  present  him  with  three  dimen- 
sions. He  has  not  in  all  his  works  a single  word  which  addresses 
itself  to  the  spirit : that  of  nature,  or  of  essence,  for  example,  chokes 
him  ; he  would  rather  form,  because  he  can  see  it.  The  word 
prejudice  is  too  subtile  for  his  ear ; he  will  say  idol,  because  an 
idol  is  a statue  of  wood,  of  stone,  or  of  metal,  and  has  a form  and 
a color  which  one  may  touch,  and  which  can  be  placed  on  a ped- 
estal. Instead  then  of  saying,  national  prejudices,  corporal  preju- 
dices, &c. ; he  W'ill  say  idols  of  the  forum,  idols  of  the  tribe,  &c. ; 
and  those  prejudices  which  we  all  more  or  less  derive  from  charac- 
ter and  habitude,  he  calls  idols  of  the  cave  ; for  the  interior  of  man 
is  to  him  only  a humid  cavern,  and  the  errors  which  distil  from  the 
vault,  form  concretions,  just  like  stalactytes  which  hang  from  vul- 
gar caverns.” 

In  the  same  sweeping  style  of  criticism,  combining  at  the  same 
time  many  a stern  truth  with  much  exaggeration,  the  author  ex- 
poses the  methods,  the  aim,  the  defects,  the  weaknesses,  both  of  the 
Baconian  science  and  theology ; seeking  to  elevate  his  own  theo- 
logical scepticism  upon  the  ruins  of  all  science  and  all  philosophy. 
Little  as  we  can  sympathize  in  the  spirit  of  the  author’s  system,  it 
is  highly  interesting  to  peruse  a polemical  work  of  unquestionable 
ability,  which  meets  the  frequent  dogmatism  of  the  sensational 
school  with  a dogmatism  equal  to  its  own ; and  opposes  to  the  posi- 
tiveness of  positivism,  a rough  satirical  energy,  which  pays  back 
with  fair  interest  all  the  ignorant  sport  which  has  been  celebrated 
over  the  cloud-land  of  idealism. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


527 


The  tendency  shown  by  M.  de  Maistre  to  substitute  faith  for 
knowledge,  and  authority  for  philosophical  investigation,  in  matters 
where  such  a substitution  is  not  admissible,  has  been  still  further 
developed  in  more  modern  times  by  the  Abbe  de  Lamennais.  This 
remarkable  writer  was  born  in  the  year  1780,  and  must,  therefore, 
have  grown  up  amidst  the  very  storms  of  the  Revolution,  with 
which  his  country  was  agitated.  Being  naturally  of  a deeply  re- 
ligious tendency  of  mind,  he  could  not  but  look  with  sorrow,  and 
even  with  bitterness  of  spirit,  upon  the  almost  universal  reign  of 
unbelief ; and  it  must  have  become  early  a ruling  passion  of  his 
nature  to  recall  his  countrymen  back  to  the  exercise  of  a faith  in 
God  and  immortality,  to  which  they  seemed  to  have  grown  in- 
sensible. 

To  aid  him  in  this  design,  philosophy  seemed  entirely  unavail- 
ing. As  to  sensationalism,  it  had  already  banished  Deity  from  the 
temples  erected  to  his  honor,  yea,  if  possible,  from  the  temple  of 
the  universe,  filled  though  it  be  with  his  own  glory.  The  antago- 
nist system  of  idealism,  with  its  rationalistic  spirit,  likewise  afforded 
but  little  that  was  satisfactory  to  an  ardent  mind,  longing  to  rush 
with  enthusiasm  into  the  great  question  of  human  destiny,  and  to 
bring  man’s  duty  to  God  with  intense  earnestness  and  vivid  per- 
spicuity before  its  contemplation.  Resigning,  then,  all  trust  in  phi- 
losophy, he  took  his  stand  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
and  proposed  to  find  there  the  one  principle  of  truth,  from  which 
all  veracious  human  knowledge  really  proceeds.  His  work,  enti- 
tled, “ Essai  sur  ITndifference  en  Matiere  de  Religioji,”*  was  the 
first  to  rouse  the  public  attention  at  once  to  himself,  and  to  the 
theme  of  his  passionate  interest.  It  is  the  production  of  a mind 
disgusted  with  the  sensualism  and  immorality  of  society,  tired 
of  the  petty  objects  which  were  absorbing  the  attention  of  man- 
kind, and  longing  to  gain  peace  and  satisfaction  in  higher  thoughts 
and  nobler  feelings.  Such  a satisfaction  he  finds  in  religion  as  held 
by  the  Church  in  all  ages  ; and,  therefore,  neglecting  every  other 
avenue  of  knowledge  as  vain  and  fruitless,  he  will  have  this  to  be 

* This  work  was  first  published  about  the  year  1820,  and  has  since  gone  through 
eight  editions.  The  first  part  gives  a classification  of  the  different  systems  of  religious 
indifference,  and  elaborately  refutes  them.  The  second  part  treats  of  the  importance 
of  religion  in  relation  to  the  individual,  to  the  state,  and  to  God.  The  third  part  dis- 
cusses the  method  of  discovering  the  true  religion ; and  the  fourth  proves  this  to  be  none 
other  than  Christianity.  The  whole  work  ends  with  a defence  of  the  principles  pro- 
pounded against  objectors ; treating  of  the  uncertainty  of  all  philosophical  research,  and 
showing  the  only  ground  of  certitude  in  the  attainment  of  truth,  that,  namely,  of 
Catholicism. 


528 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  one  great  and  sole  channel,  through  which  God  has  communi- 
cated truth  to  his  creatures  below. 

In  order  to  establish  this  principle,  the  first  requisite  was,  if  pos- 
sible, to  destroy  the  confidence  of  humanity  in  philosophy,  of  what- 
ever kind ; and  thus  to  compel  them  to  take  refuge  in  the  ark  of 
faith,  against  the  universal  deluge  of  absolute  scepticism.  He  had 
to  found,  consequently,  a philosophical  scepticism,  in  order  to  estab- 
lish the  full  authority  of  his  theological  dogmas.  The  scepticism 
which  M.  de  Lamennais,  with  this  object  in  view,  maintained,  if 
not  profound,  nevertheless  is  such  as  will  be  always  sure  to  find  a 
response  in  many  minds.*  His  spirit  of  combined  mysticism  and 
misanthropy ; his  restless  weariness  at  the  delusive  glare  of  human 
things ; his  contempt  for  the  errors,  the  failings,  the  follies  of  man- 
kind ; his  disappointment  over  the  frailty  of  his  own  cherished 
hopes ; all  these  will  ever  touch  a chord  of  sympathy  in  many  a 
heart  which  has  struggled  through  the  same  experience,  and  ar- 
rived, perhaps,  at  the  same  results. 

“ What  philosophy  is  there,”  he  exclaims,  (we  quote  from  one 
of  his  own  critics,  M.  Damiron,)  “ whose  pretensions  are  not  all 
uncertain — all  false  ? The  senses  deceive  us,  and  attest  nothing 
that  can  be  termed  clear,  positive,  complete.  Feeling  is  not  more 
sure ; its  object,  although  in  appearance  more  evident  and  more 
simple,  still,  unless  we  are  on  our  guard,  is  nothing  less  than  a con- 
tinual series  of  doubts  and  illusions.  As  to  reason,  it  is  to  be  still 
more  suspected ; for,  first  of  all,  it  only  operates  upon  the  data 
furnished  by  .the  senses,  or  the  feelings,  (data  upon  which  it  cannot 
count) ; and,  secondly,  when  the  d?*a  are  at  hand,  how  does  it 
operate  ? and  what  guarantee  have  we  of  the  legitimacy  of  its  pro- 
cedure ? What  are  we  to  think  of  the  contradictory  conclusions 
which  it  draws  from  the  same  principle  ? what  of  the  identical  ones 
it  draws  from  different  principles  ? What  truth  has  it  not  denied  ? 
what  error  has  it  not  established  ? In  a word,  must  it  not  associate 
memory  with  all  its  operations  ? — and  is  memory  a faithful  ally  ? 
Reason,  feeling,  sense  ! — faculties  without  control ! — vain  means  of 
gaining  knowledge  ! — principles  of  error  and  incertitude ! These 
it  is,  which  deprive  man  of  all  hope  of  having  either  knowledge  or 
faith  from  himself;  there  is  for  him  no  reality,  either  within  or 
without ; there  is  nothing,  up  to  the  very  truth  of  his  own  exist- 
ence, in  which  he  has  any  right  to  believe,  unless  he  has  some  other 

* To  gain  a complete  view  of  the  author’s  scepticism,  consult  especially  Part  3,  chap.  i. 
“ Du  fondement  de  la  certitude.”  Also,  his  “ Defense  de  I’Essai  sur  I’Indifference,”  at 
the  close  of  the  fourth  part. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


529 


reason  than  his  own  private  sentiment,  and  his  own  individual  con- 
sciousness.” 

M.  de  Lamennais,  we  thus  see,  has  himself  exactly  fallen  into 
the  error,  against  which  Plato  makes  Socrates  affectionately  warn 
his  friends,  in  the  conversation  before  his  death.  “ Is  it  not  la- 
mentable, O Phaedo,”  he  says,  “ that  when  there  is  such  a thing  as 
true  and  valid  reasons,  capable  of  being  comprehended,  any  one, 
from  meeting  with  other  reasons,  some  of  which  appear  to  be  true, 
and  some  not,  should  fail  to  lay  the  blame  upon  his  own  unskilful- 
ness, but  at  last  should  delight  to  thrust  the  error  from  his  own 
shoulders  upon  reasoning  itself,  pass  the  rest  c f his  life  in  hatred 
and  contempt  of  it,  and  thus  be  deprived  of  the  .'ruth  and  knowl- 
edge that  he  seeks  ?” 

It  will  not  be  necessary  here  to  repeat  the  arguments  by  which 
this  sweeping  procedure  of  scepticism  is  met  and  refuted.  We 
have  already  shown,  that  all  absolute  unbelief  in  the  human  facul- 
ties is  answered  by  the  very  principle  which  it  attempts  to  estab- 
lish. If  oUr  senses  and  feelings,  our  memory,  our  reason,  all  are 
delusive,  then  every  system  of  philosophy  is  placed  hors  de  combat, 
and  the  reasoning  which  has  established  scepticism  itself,  may  be 
just  as  erroneous  as  any  other.  Against  all  pretended  unbelief  of 
this  kind,  the  common  sense  of  mankind  protests.  That  we  may 
fall  into  many  errors  and  many  delusions  through  false  reasoning, 
is  unquestionable ; but  there  are  some  points  of  knowledge,  in 
which  we  feel  that  error  is  impossible.  Here  mankind  have  ever 
taken  their  stand  ; and  equally  vain  is  the  attempt  to  shake  the 
confidence  of  humanity  in  that  which  bears  the  marks  of  necessity 
and  universality,  as  it  is  to  inspire  a fear  least  the  solid  basis  of 
the  everlasting  mountains  should  crumble  beneath  our  feet. 

M.  de  Lamennais,  however,  having  begun  by  establishing  a 
philosophical  scepticism,  does  not  purpose,  by  any  means,  to  leave 
us  in  doubt  and  perplexity  as  to  what  is  true,  and  what  false ; on 
the  contrary,  he  goes  on  to  expound  a theory  of  human  knowl- 
edge, by  which  we  may  arrive  at  certainty  upon  all  the  great  ques- 
tions of  human  interest.  The  theory  in  question  is  that  of  au- 
thorihy — a theory  which  we  must  now  attempt  briefly  to  explain.* 

Man  having  no  criterion  of  truth  within  himself  as  an  individ- 
ual, must  find  one  in  the  universal  assent  of  the  whole  race.  The 
principle,  “ Quod  semper,  quod  ubique,  quod  ad  omnibus,”  taken 

♦ The  principle  of  authority  is  advocated  in  different  points  of  view,  throughout  the 
whole  work.  The  chief  passages  in  which  it  is  maintained  or  illustrated,  will  be  found 
in  Part  iii.,  chaps.  1,  3,  5,  8,  and  Part  iv.,  chaps.  10,  12,  14,  16. 

34 


530 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


in  its  widest  acceptation,  gives  us  the  sole  test  of  what  is  most  as- 
suredly true.  This  principle  being  settled,  the  next  question  is, 
whei-e  and  how  such  universal  assent  is  to  be  found.  Opinions  on 
all  ordinary  subjects  within  the  range  of  human  contemplation, 
have  been  perpetually  changing.  There  have  been  different  views 
advocated  in  art,  in  science,  in  philosophy,  in  almost  every  depart- 
ment of  general  knowledge ; so  that  it  is  vain  to  look  for  common 
consent,  and  consequently,  for  absolute  truth,  in  any  of  these  di- 
rections. 

In  religion,  however,  the  case  is  different.  Here  there  has  been 
really  but  one  system  among  the  enlightened  of  mankind,  from  the 
earliest  ages  of  the  world  to  the  present  time.  Revealed  at  three 
different  epochs,  it  has  not  changed  its  essence  in  passing  from  one 
age  into  another,  but  only  varied  its  form.  The  religion  of  the 
Patriarch,  of  the  Jew,  of  the  Christian,  is  really  one  and  the  same; 
and  the  truth  which  it  contains  has  gradually  been  developing  itself 
with  greater  clearness  from  one  dispensation  to  another.  The  ex- 
istence of  false  religion  is  no  obstacle  against  this  view  of  the  case. 
False  religion  is  simply  a defective  view  of  truth  ; while  true  religion, 
amidst  all  its  various  developments,  and  all  its  corruptions,  has  ever 
retained  its  fundamental  unity.  Here,  therefore,  we  are  to  look  in 
order  to  find  The  Truth — that,  namely,  which  rests  upon  the  au- 
thority of  the  whole  world,  from  its  creation  to  the  present  hour, 
and  which  proceeded  originally  from  the  direct  intervention  of 
God  himself.* 

Now  the  depository  of  truth,  which  was  formerly  vested  in  the 
patriarch,  and  in  the  Jewish  priest,  in  the  present  day  is  vested  in 
the  Catholic  Church.  This  is  the  receptacle  of  the  universal  con- 
sent of  mankind  ; this  has  preserved  it  in  its  purity ; this  can  boast 
the  sole  authority  from  God,  both  to  expound  it  and  to  enforce  it 
upon  our  attention ; and  the  man,  therefore,  who  abandons  the 
Church  of  Rome,  necessarily  plunges  into  an  abyss  of  error,  both 
as  it  regards  religion  and  everything  else  besides. f Such  being  the 
case,  it  is  the  duty  of  every  state  in  the  w’orld  (as  the  guardian  of 
the  best  interests  of  the  subject)  to  support,  by  every  possible 
means,  that  one  Church,  and  that  one  doctrine,  which  alone  can 
give  stability  and  peace  to  society ; to  punish  any  dissent  from 
it  as  a crime  against  human  happiness ; and  to  give  implicit  obe- 
dience to  the  popedom,  as  the  living  concentration  of  universal 
consent,  the  sole  guide  and  arbitrator  of  human  reason.  Such  is 

♦ Part  iv,,  chaps.  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8.  t Part  iv.,  chaps.  2,  14,  16. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


531 


the  extraordinary  system  which  M.  de  Lamennais  has  propounded 
and  supported  with  a learning,  power,  and  eloquence,  which  raises 
him  to  the  very  summit  of  the  living  writers  of  France. 

It  is  the  learning  and  eloquence,  however,  we  imagine,  which 
abound  in  the  work  now  before  us,  rather  than  the  soundness  of  its 
arguments,  to  which  it  owes  all  its  popularity  and  success.  The 
principle  of  authority,  put  forward  as  it  is  in  the  light  of  a philosoph- 
ical, rather  than  a theological  dogma,  and  stripped  of  its  imposing 
dress,  will  hardly  bear  the  test  of  a moment’s  close  investigation. 
Put  in  plain  language,  it  comes  just  to  this — listen  not  to  your- 
selves, but  to  those  who  are  worthy  of  your  confidence,  and  re- 
member that  neither  you  nor  they  are  able,  indimdually,  to  know 
for  certain  anything  whatever,  whether  it  rest  upon  reason  or  ex- 
perience.* 

The  Abbe,  perhaps,  did  not  perceive  that  in  undermining  the 
authority  of  the  human  faculties,  he  virtually  undermined  every 
other.  Admitting  that  there  are  persons  who  are  in  possession  of 
truth,  they  must  have  received  it  from  some  who  went  before  them ; 
they  again  from  the  generation  before  that ; and  so  on,  till  we  come 
back  to  the  mind  which  received  the  truth  directly  from  God.  But 
these  first  recipients  must  have  used  their  own  faculties  ; they  must 
have  recorded  their  own  impressions,  obtained  either  through  sense, 
reason,  or  feeling ; and  they  must  have  transmitted  them  through 
the  medium  of  other  minds.  If  these  faculties,  therefore,  are  so 
weak,  wavering,  and  deceptive,  as  our  author  supposes,  what  guar- 
antee have  we  that  they  have  either  appreciated  or  transmitted 
truth  with  faultless  accuracy  ? Must  not  tradition  be  corrupted  by 
the  very  channel  through  which  it  has  flowed  ? 

Or,  to  put  the  subject  in  another  point  of  view,  let  us  suppose 
the  Abbe  himself  in  the  act  of  seeking  for  truth  previous  to  the 
time  when  he  had  found  the  sole  fountain,  out  of  which,  as  he  af- 
firms, it  can  be  obtained.  How,  we  would  ask,  did  he  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  we  must  fall  back  upon  authority  ? How  did  he 
prove  satisfactorily  to  his  own  mind,  that  the  source  and  centre  of 
authority  is  in  the  Catholic  Church  ? Did  he  not  read,  and  search, 
and  argue,  and  meditate  ? Has  he  not  written  whole  volumes  of 
controversy  on  the  subject,  to  persuade  men  to  adopt  his  opinion  ? 
But,  on  his  own  principle,  what  is  the  value  of  all  this  argument  ? 
Does  not  his  reason  totter  and  err,  as  well  as  that  of  other  people  ? 
and  has  he  not,  in  fact,  followed  his  own  private,  and,  consequently, 
* Damiron,  “ Histoire  de  Phil.”  Vol.  i,  p.  269. 


532 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


fallible  judgment,  in  choosing  to  yield  himself  to  the  supreme  direc- 
tion of  his  spiritual  head  ? 

In  matter  of  fact,  private  judgment  must  be  exercised,  whether 
we  will  or  not.  We  come  into  God’s  world  without  any  mark  upon 
our  spirits  to  tell  us  where  we  are  to  find  the  truth,  and  it  is  equally 
a matter  of  private  opinion,  whether  we  determine  to  work  out  our 
own  system  of  religious  belief  for  ourselves,  or  whether  we  deter- 
mine to  yield  to  the  authority  of  others.  If  reason,  therefore,  be 
invalid,  this  very  determination  which  it  makes,  to  resign  itself  into 
the  hands  of  authority,  may  be  an  erroneous  judgment.  In  short, 
if  the  validity  of  reason  be  once  destroyed,  nothing — not  even  rev- 
elation (which  must  be  received  through  its  medium)  can  save  us 
from  universal  scepticism ; that  is,  a universal  “ reductio  ad  ab- 
surdum!' 

That  our  reasoning  here  is  correct,  the  subsequent  conduct  of 
M.  de  Lamennais  himself  has  given  the  best  possible  proof.  At  the 
breaking  out  of  the  Revolution  of  1830,  he  began  to  advocate  the 
complete  independence  of  the  clergy,  and  to  argue  that,  as  they 
were  in  allegiance  to  another  and  a superior  power,  they  ought  to 
have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  temporal  government.  This 
doctrine  was  opposed  at  the  same  time  by  the  clergy  and  the  pope. 
In  1834,  he  published  a small  work,  entitled,  “ Paroles  d’un  Croy- 
ant,”  the  object  of  which  was  to  advocate  pure  democracy  on  the 
principles  of  the  New  Testament;  a theory  which  was  so  unpala- 
table in  the  same  quarters,  that  the  work  itself  was  publicly  con- 
demned.* Baffled  and  spurned  by  the  supreme  authority,  which 
he  had  formerly  represented  as  the  very  concentration  of  truth,  he 
had  nothing  left  but  to  declare  against  it,  to  commit  the  crime  which 
he  had  before  held  up  to  reprobation,  and  to  afford  another  proof 
that  those  who  pretend  to  submit  most  implicitly  to  authority,  are 
actually,  in  doing  so,  equally  following  their  own  private  judgment, 
and  quite  as  ready  to  exercise  it,  as  all  other  men  are,  whenever 
the  occasion  may  require. f 

* This  work  has  been  recently  translated  into  English,  by  Rev.  E.  S.  Pryce,  B.A. 

f In  his  little  treatise,  entitled  “ Livre  du  Peuple,”  he  rejects  all  political  authority 
whatever,  except  that  which  springs  from  the  mass. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


533 


DIGRESSION  ON  M.  DE  LAMENNAIS’  “ ESQUISSE  D’UNE 
PHILOSOPHIE.” 

In  the  former  edition,  I made  no  mention  of  this  last  and  chief  work  of  M.  de  La- 
msnnais,  since  it  could  not  be  reckoned  in  any  sense  as  belonging  to  the  philosophy  of 
scepticism;  I have  thougit,  however,  that  some  account  of  the  conversion  of  a great 
and  brilliant  mind  from  the  principle  of  authority  as  attached  to  human  testimony,  to 
the  piinciple  of  authority  as  attached  to  human  reason,  might  be  both  interesting  and 
instractive.  The  work  above  mentioned,  purports  to  consist  of  no  less  than  six  volumes. 
The  first  three  appeared  in  the  year  1840,  the  fourth  in  184b,  and  the  two  last  have  still 
to  be  expected.*  The  system,  however,  so  far  as  it  goes,  is  complete ; and  we  shall  find 
little  difficulty  in  giving  a tolerably  accurate  view  of  the  principles  on  which  the  whole 
is  founded. 

With  regard  to  the  idsn  of  philosophy,  the  author  has  taken  a comprehensive,  and,  as 
it  appears  to  us,  a perfictly  correct  definition  of  it.  Instead  of  confining  it  within  the 
narrow  limits  either  of  psychology,  or  of  mere  formal  and  abstract  thought,  he  rises  to 
the  full  conception  of  a fundamental  science,  which  embraces  all  existence  in  its  ample 
grasp.  “ Philosophy,”  he  says,  “ is  the  effort  of  the  human  reason  to  conceive  all  things, 
together  with  the  product  of  that  effort.  In  this  respect,  it  embraces  all  sciences,  and 
the  developments  of  all  sciences ; as  also  the  relations  which  unite  them.  It  assembles 
and  combines  all  primary  truths,  as  the  primitive  facts  on  which  alone  it  is  able  to 
operate,  (because  the  human  understanding  includes  nothing  anterior)  carries  them  up 
to  causes  and  principles,  which  the  mind  can  grasp ; deduces  from  them  their  conse- 
quences, and  seeks  to  combine  them  in  a theory,  which  comprehends  the  universality 
of  things  and  their  laws.’  f 

With  regard  to  the  method  of  philosophy,  the  Abbe  has  passed,  as  we  just  hinted, 
from  the  principles  of  faith  in  testimony,  to  faith  in  the  primitive  beliefs  of  mankind. 
The  individual  mind  he  still  thinks  incapable  of  founding  a valid  philosophy,  as  it  can 
only  expound  its  own  individual  views  of  things ; but  there  are  certain  foundation  truths 
which  all  mankind  admit:  on  these  we  must  take  our  stand,  and  on  them  erect  a sys- 
tem of  pure  scientific  knowledge.  “The  True  for  man,”  he  remarks, j;  “is  that  in 
which  the  human  reason  acquiesces.  If  we  understand  by  the  human  reason,  the  rea- 
son of  the  generality  of  men,  or  the  common  reason,  then  all  successive  variation,  and 
all  simultaneous  opposition  disappears.  The  true  is  no  longer  determined  by  the  pass- 
ing state  of  an  individual  intelligence;  but  it  is  the  urairersaf  state  of  intelli- 

gences of  the  same  order.  It  is  that  to  which  the  common  reason  adheres  always,  and 
everywhere ; that  which  is  invariable  like  the  nature  of  the  beings  themselves ; and  every 
one  from  thence  has  an  invariable  rule  for  his  thoughts  and  judgments,  an  immutable 
law  of  affirmation.”  This  method,  it  will  be  seen,  is  nearly  identical  with  Reid’s  prin- 
ciple of  “ common  sense.” 

Philosophy,  then,  starting  from  this  common  ground,  has  three  questions  to  solve : — 
1.  Does  anything  exist"!  2.  How  does  anything  exist "!  3.  Why  does  anything  ex- 

ist 1 The  solution  of  these  questions  comprehends  the  whole  sum  and  substance  of 
philosophical  inquiry.  In  answering  the  first  of  these  three  questions,  it  is  vain  to  look 
for  any  proof  or  at  least  any  demonstration  of  existence.  Existence  is  a primitive-fact; 
it  comes  to  us  spontaneously,  irresistibly;  it  is  received  by  all  mankind  on  a pure  and 
undoubted  faith.  We  hno/o  that  there  is  such  a thing  as  being  per  se,  and  we  know 
that  there  is  such  a thing  as  being  per  aiium;  in  other  words,  we  have  an  indestructi- 
ble belief  in  the  infinite  Being,  and  in  the  dependent  universe.  To  deny  either  of 
these,  would  imply  a palpable  contradiction  of  the  very  first  elements  of  our  conscious- 
ness.§  The  primary  object  of  philosophy,  then,  is  to  investigate  the  nature  and  rela- 
tions of  God  and  the  universe. 

The  first  book  treats  of  God.  Respecting  the  existence  of  the  Divine  being,  we  need 
no  proof:  the  negation  of  him  would  be  the  negation  of  all  being.  In  contemplating, 
then,  the  Divine  existence,  we  find,  from  whatever  point  of  view  it  be  regarded,  that  it 
comprehends  three  great  and  essential  attribuies.  The  first  is  that  of  povier  or  force; 
for  all  existence  implies  a divine  energy.  The  second  is  intelligence;  for  without  intel- 
ligence, no  formal  creation  could  have  taken  place.  The  third  is  love,  which  unites  the 

* The  fifth  has  just  now  appeared.  t Vol.  i.  p.  20. 

t Vol.  i.  p.  9.  § Vol.  1.  p.  25,  et  seq. 


534 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


divine  power  with  the  divine  intelligence,  and  completes  the  perfection  of  the  supreme 
nature. 

These  three  determinations  appear  in  Scripture  under  the  ideas  of  the  Father,  the 
Son,  and  the  Spirit;  and  all  existence  will  be  seen  to  flow  by  regular  and  divine  laws 
fjrom  these  eternal  distinctions  in  the  very  nature  of  Deity  itself.* 

The  knowledge  of  God,  then,  is  the  basis  of  all  philosophy.  Let  the  eye  of  the  soul 
gaze  steadfastly  upon  the  divine  nature ; let  us  become  deeply  imbued  with  the  distinc- 
tions of  the  infinite  power,  intelligence,  and  love,  and  we  have  the  key  to  the  compre- 
hension of  all  the  mysteries  of  being  throughout  the  universe  at  large.f 

Having  contemplated  the  nature  of  God,  the  author  next  approaches  the  philosophy 
of  creulion.  On  this  point,  several  different  theories  have  existed.  Some  considering 
it  absurd  to  suppose  anything  to  exist  beyond  infinite  being  itself,  have  regarded  the 
universe  simply  as  phenomenal;  everything,  as  far  as  it  possesses  any  reality,  being 
only  a modification  of  the  divine  essence.  This  is  pantheism. 

Others  again,  to  alleviate  the  difficulty,  have  maintained  the  existence  of  two  exter- 
nal principles ; this  is  the  scheme  of  dualism.  A third  party  have  explained  the  act 
of  creation,  as  being  the  veritable  production  of  something,  which  had  no  kind  of  ex- 
istence before,  out  of  nothing ; an  hypothesis  which  implies  that  there  is  a greater  sum 
of  being  in  the  universe  now  than  there  was  originally,  and  consequently  that  the 
original  self-existent  being  was  not  infinite.  All  of  these  theories  contain  a portion  of 
truth,  but  not  the  whole.  What  is  true  in  the  first  is,  that  there  can  be  only  one  infi- 
nite substance.  What  is  true  in  the  second  is,  that  the  universe  is  not  a pure  phenom- 
enon, a mode  of  the  divine.  What  is  true  in  the  third  is,  that  created  things  do  not 
belong  purely  and  essentially  to  the  divine  nature,  but  exist  out  of  God.:j; 

To  deduce  the  finite  from  the  infinite  by  a regular  process  of  thinking,  the  author 
considers  impossible.  Both  are  given  as  primary  elements  of  our  knowledge — their  co- 
existence is  a mystery  ; and  yet  there  can  be  no  reason  shown  why  the  same  substance 
may  not  subsist  in  two  different  states,  the  one  finite  the  other  infinite ; although  the 
full  comprehension  of  the  method  by  which  this  is  effectuated,  is  the  central  point  of 
philosophical  truth,  which  we  can  never  fully  understand.! 

There  are  some  points  in  the  philosophy  of  creation,  however,  which  we  can  under- 
stand. We  know  that  the  infinite  being  must  have  contained  in  himself  the  e.r-'empfarj; 
of  all  finite  and  particular  beings,  what  Plato  called  the  divine  ideas.  We  know  that 
as  Deity  is  infinite  power,  intelligence,  and  love,  these  three  principles  must  have  con- 
curred in  the  act  of  creation,  for  nothing  could  have  existed  without  form,  nor  could 
that  form  be  brought  into  being  without  a power  to  effect  it ; nor  could  the  form  and 
the  force  result  in  any  product  without  their  co-operation  by  a principle  of  attraction  or 
love.  To  create,  therefore,  is  to  realize  without,  that  which  first  existed  within  the  Di- 
vine understanding, — and  when  we  have  fully  explored  this  truth,  we  have  done  all 
which  philosophy  can  do  to  explain  the  mystery  oi'  crcalion.W 

What  idea,  then,  must  we  attach  to  the  material  worlds  If  everything  is  but  the 
realization  of  the  divine  ideas,  what  is  matter'?  To  this  the  Abbe  replies,  that  the  idea 
of  matter  is  purely  negative.  The  only  positive  existence  is  power,  intelligence,  and 
love ; but  these  must  be  limited,  in  order  to  become  finite  realities ; and  the  limitation 
is,  in  fact,  all  that  we  mean  by  matter.  “ Pure  matter  exists  not ; its  very  idea  is 
a contradiction.  The  existence  of  a thing  which  limits,  implies  that  of  a thing  limited ; 
every  body  then  is  complex.  Whatever  degree  it  occupies  in  the  scale  of  being,  that 
which  constitutes  it  a determinate  being,  in  a word,  that  which  there  is  of  positive 
in  it  distinct  from  matter,  is  simply  that  which  is  limited  by  matter.  Of  the  two  ele- 
ments of  which  it  is  composed,  (the  limiting  and  the  limited,)  the  one  expresses  that 
which  is,  the  other  that  which  is  not — namely,  the  limit  in  space,  the  circumscription 
of  its  own  nature.”1T  The  mode  of  creature  existence,  in  fact,  borrows  everything  there 
is  real  in  it,  from  the  mode  of  the  divine  existence.  But  in  the  divine  existence  there 
is  neither  time,  space,  nor  motiim ; hence,  time,  space,  and  motion,  as  modes  of  our  ex- 
istence, are  negative.  What  is  time!  The  limit  of  eternity.  What  is  space?  The 
limit  of  immensity.  What  is  motion?  The  limit  of  omnipresence.”**  Such  is  the 
explanation  of  the  truth — “ In  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being.” 

Having  discussed  the  philosophy  of  creation,  the  author  next  proceeds  to  explain  fur- 
ther the  nature  of  the  universe,  (Book  iii.)  The  sources  from  which  all  our  conjectures 
on  the  formation  of  the  universe  may  be  drawn,  are  twofold.  First  of  all,  we  must 
appeal  to  science.  The  conclusions  of  Astronomy  and  of  Geology  must  be  marshalled, 
and  all  the  light  must  be  thrown  upon  the  subject  which  diligence  and  perseverance 
can  bring  together  in  a focus.  The  results  of  science  must  next  be  placed  side  by  side 
with  the  conclusions  of  our  higher  speculative  thinking;  and  from  the  aid  they  mutu- 

* Vol.  i.  p.  43,  ct  seq.  t Yol.  i.  p.  91.  t Vol.  1.  p.  111.  § Vol  i.  p.  I9G. 

II  Book  ii.  chap.  1,  passim.  11  Vol.  i.  p.  12D.  **  Ibid.  p.  133. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


535 


ally  lend  to  each  other,  we  must  ground  our  views  on  the  true  philosophy  of  the  uni- 
verse. Observation  and  reason,  according  to  M,  de  Lamennais,  both  combine  to  show 
us,  that  the  universe  consists  of  certain  manifestations  of  power,  of  intelligence,  and  of 
love ; that  the  very  qualities  which  philosophy  first  shows  to  be  inherent  in  the  Divine 
being,  are  found  by  experience  to  form  the  basis  of  all  the  phenomena  which  the  whole 
of  creation  alike  presents.*  Pursuing  this  course  of  investigation,  the  author  traces 
the  manifestations  oi  force  or  power  through  the  laws  of  inorganic  matter,  through  the 
various  gradations  of  organic  existence,  and  in  the  phenomena  of  mind.  Prom  tlience, 
he  proceeds  to  trace  in  the  same  way  the  various  manifestations  of  intelligence ; and, 
lastly,  to  exhibit  the  great  attractive  principle,  which  in  its  various  forms  is  but  the  di- 
versified manifestation  oilovef 

Having  expounded,  at  some  length,  the  laws  of  force,  of  intelligence,  and  of  love  in 
the  universe,  the  author  now  proceeds  (Book  iv.)  to  a separate  consideration  of  the  dif- 
ferent orders  of  created  existences,  which  are  divided  by  him  into  the  inorganic,  the 
organic,  and  the  intelligent. 

First,  inoi'ganic  substances  have  a participation  in  all  three  of  the  primary  attributes 
of  the  infinite  Being,  but  \i3LX\.akQ  predominantlij  of  the  attributes  oi  force.  The  action 
of  force  is  always  considered  the  primary,  hence  the  world  is  represented  in  its  prunary 
state,  as  a chaos,  with  little  manifestation  of  form  (intelligence)  or  of  vitality  (love.) 
On  this  part  of  the  universe,  the  marks  of  limitation  and  isolation  are  most  strongly  im- 
pressed. Each  atom,  exists  only  for  itself,  floating  without  any  fixed  relation  in  the 
universal  blank. 

Secondly,  that  which  characterizes  organic  substances,  is  a vital  unity,  in  which  ex- 
treme limitation  ceases  to  predominate,  and  a spontaneous  internal  principle  of  union 
and  co-operation  is  evinced.  This,  with  some  individual  differences,  forms  the  main 
peculiarity  both  of  vegetable  and  animal  existence.  Lastly,  intelligent  beings  are  those 
in  which  power,  intelligence,  and  love  attain  their  purer  form  and  higher  intensity. 
Here  the  laws  of  mere  sensibility  and  instinct  give  way  to  those  of  reason  and  will ; 
and  just  in  proportion  as  these  higher  laws  are  disowned,  does  man  sink  back  into  the 
lower  state  of  mere  animal  existence. 

The  two  last  books  of  this  first  division  of  philosophy,  relate  to  the  general  laws  of 
creation,  viewed  in  relation  to  the  essential  properties  of  being.  We  cannot  follow 
the  author  particularly  through  these  somewhat  intricate  researches ; we  simply  point 
out  the  fact,  that  he  has  entered  into  a complete  discu.ssion  of  the  general  laws  of  bare 
matter,  of  organism,  and  of  mind  ; that  he  has  compared  these  laws  with  the  original 
properties  of  being,  and  deduced  from  thence  a connected  exposition  of  the  principles 
of  life,  organic  and  intelligent,  of  reproduction  and  of  conservation ; — in  a word,  that 
from  the  primary  ideas  of  force,  intelligence,  and  love,  he  has  sought  to  cast  a light 
upon  all  the  processes  of  nature,  and  all  the  mysteries  of  being.  Having  shown  that 
the  end  of  all  creation  is  the  manifestation  of  God,  the  author  professes  to  have  an- 
swered the  three  questions  he  at  first  proposed, — to  have  shown  what  there  is, — hmo  it 
is, — and  why. 

The  fundamental  branch  of  philosophy  being  thus  completed,  we  have  to  look  around 
for  its  applications.  “ The  general  principles  we  have  expounded,”  he  remarks,  “ de- 
velop themselves  on  all  sides  into  a multitude  of  consequences ; so  that,  from  the  primi- 
tive elements  of  the  world,  proceed  successively  the  different  series  of  beings  which 
mark  the  phases  of  its  development.  We  ought  now  to  follow  these  consequences  into 
their  principal  branches,  and  consider  more  in  detail  the  inexhaustible  wonders  of  crea- 
tive power.  And  as,  out  of  all  beings  known  to  us,  man  is  the  most  elevated  ; as  in 
his  form,  at  the  same  time  one  and  complex,  he  combines  all  inferior  existences  ; it  is 
upon  him  that  we  must  next  fix  our  attention.'’^ 

The  second  division  of  philosophy  then  relates  to  man.  The  general  laws  of  all  intel- 
ligent existence  have  been  already  deduced.  The  first  great  peculiarity,  then,  which  we 
find  in  human  nature,  when  regarded  in  its  individuality,  is  the  existence  of  evil.  Tliis 
is  a mystery  which  all  great  systems  of  philosophy  have  sought  to  solve,  and  to  this  we 
must  accordingly  look  as  a great  fact,  lying  at  the  very  centre  of  our  constitution.  To 
explain  the  mystery  of  moral  evil,  (for  all  evil  has  its  root  here,)  we  must  consider  the 
nature  of  the  creature  in  relation  to  the  Creator.  “ Creation  implies,  in  every  being, 
the  co-existence  of  two  principles;  the  one  is  that  which,  uniting  it  to  the  infinite,  is 
the  root  of  its  very  existence, — its  primitive  and  fundamental  condition ; the  other  is 
that,  which,  as  constituting  its  proper  individuahty,  tends  to  separate  it  from  the  infi- 
nite— from  God.” 

There  are,  therefore,  two  tendencies  in  the  creature,  the  one  towards  God,  the  other 
towards  the  individual, — towards  self;  and  the  harmonious  co-operation,  or  if  we  may 

• Vol.  i.  p.  152,  &c.  t Book  ii.  ch.ops.  4,  5,  6. 

t Book  iv.  chaps.  2,  3.  S Vol.  i.  p.  409. 


536 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


term  it  so,  the  equilibrium  of  these  two  tendencies,  is  the  proper  mode  of  existence  for 
created  intelligence.  Minds,  however,  by  virtue  of  their  freedom,  have  the  power  to 
disturb  this  equilibrium,  to  violate  the  law  of  unity,  and  to  give  preponderance  to  the 
law  of  separation.  This  isolation  of  the  individual  from  the  infinite,  is  the  root,  nay,  is 
the  very  essence  of  all  evil.  Sin  can  be  regarded,  therefore,  simply  in  a negative  point 
of  view ; it  is  the  limilalion  of  a soul  from  its  communion  with  Deity ; and  is,  in  fact, 
the  necessary  possibility  of  a finite  creature.  Thus,  however  baneful  to  the  subject,  yet 
evil  does  not  introduce  a single  element  of  positive  disorder  into  the  universe  regarded 
ns  the  realization  of  the  Divine  ideas.  God  is  not  the  author  of  evil,  for  a negation 
cannot  be  created.  The  great  business  of  man  as  a moral  agent,  is  to  struggle  against 
this  limitation,  to  develop  that  intelligence  which  lifts  him  anew  to  the  intuition  of  God, 
and  to  foster  that  love  which  attracts  the  soul  back  to  its  infinite  source.* 

To  come  back,  however,  to  the  closer  consideration  of  man  in  his  distinctive  nature, 
there  arc  two  points  of  view  in  which  he  must  be  contcSnplated.  1.  As  an  organic 
being ; and  2,  as  a being  of  intelligence  and  freedom.  On  M.  de  Lamennais’  theory 
of  organization,  nutrition,  reproduction,  life,  sleep,  death,  &c.,  we  shall  not  dwell,  as 
it  involves  too  many  particulars  to  be  compressed  into  a brief  sketch  like  the  present; 
and,  though  highly  interesting,  is  rather  an  application  than  a necessary  part  of  his 
philosophy.  We  pass  on,  therefore,  to  the  theory  and  analysis  of  the  human  mind. 
Mind  is  intelligent;  and  to  be  intelligent,  means,  to  perceive  God  ; that  is,  not  only  to 
communicate  with  the  lower  world  by  sense  and  instinct,  like  the  brutes,  but  to  rise  to 
the  perception  of  pure,  abstract,  and  eternal  ideas.  The  light  of  human  intelligence 
must  emanate  from  the  Divine  intelligence,  and  consequently  man  has  intellect  only 
by  virtue  of  his  relation  to  the  Eternal  World.  The  knowledge  oithe  true  again  pro- 
duces love — the  aspiration  of  the  soul  after  truth ; and  this  love — this  aspiration — man 
possesses  by  virtue  of  his  connection  with  the  Divine  love — the  Spirit.  Knowledge 
and  love  together  determine  and  give  impulse  to  our  action,  and  this  action  emanating 
from  the  will  is  derived  from  our  participation  of  the  divine  potoer — the  causa  causarum. 
These  faculties,  however,  exist  in  a veritable  being,  which  itself  partakes  of  the  divine 
substance,  and  the  consciousness  of  this  unity  is  the  essence  of  personality — the  idea 
of  self. 

To  begin  with  the  theory  of  intelligence.  This  we  see  is  now  reduced  to  the  discov- 
ery of  man’s  relation  with  the  word — the  Divine  intelligence.  Psychology,  then,  can- 
not be  the  starting  point  in  philosophy,  as  it  was  made  by  Descartes  and  Kant ; we 
must  begin  with  ontology — with  the  intuition  of  the  Infinite,  and  from  thence  alone  can 
we  come  down  to  the  proper  comprehension  of  mind. 

Intelligence,  we  find,  is  of  two  kinds,  passive  and  active.  When  the  light  of  the 
Infinite  flows  in  upon  the  mind,  and  failk  goes  forth  to  embrace  it,  the  whole  process 
is,  on  our  part,  purely  spontaneous.  On  the  other  hand,  our  reflective  knowledge  is 
derived  from  our  own  designed  activity ; we  compare,  judge,  reason,  and  thus  arrive  at 
the  truth  by  another  and  more  laborious  route.  The  human  intellect,  therefore,  may 
be  viewed  in  two  relations,  one  relative  to  truth  itself — the  other  to  the  individual 
which  perceives  (he  true.  Hence,  also,  two  orders  of  intellectual  laws,  those  of  intui- 
tion, and  those  of  logical  thinking.f 

In  accordance  with  what  has  Just  been  established,  the  human  faculties  which  refer 
to  understanding  must  be  divided  into  active  and  passive.  The  passive  faculties  are 
two.  1.  The  consciousness  of  perceptions  or  intuitions  spontaneously  received  ; and  2, 
memory,  which  produces  the  sentiment  of  personal  identity.  The  active  faculties  are 
all  grounded  in  the  power  of  attention;  that  primary  act  in  which  the  intellectual  ac- 
tivity of  the  me  manifests  itself  Of  the  complex  operations,  the  first  and  most  simple  is 
comparison  ; the  next  is  reasoning,  which  consists  in  the  comparison  of  an  indefinite 
number  of  terms  ; the  third  is  imagination,  the  province  of  which  is  to  effect  a union 
between  our  sensations  and  ideas,  to  image  the  spiritual.  The  expansion  of  these  facul- 
ties gives  us  the  whole  phenomena  of  our  intellectual  life.ij: 

We  come  next  to  the  theory  of  the  emotions.  These  all  result  from  the  relation  in 
which  we  stand  to  the  Divine  love — the  spirit. 

As  there  are  two  kinds  of  intelligence,  the  pure  and  the  individual,  so  there  are  two 
kinds  of  love — that  related  to  the  organic  or  sensitive  man,  and  that  related  to  the 
higher  or  spiritual  man.  From  these  result  all  the  action  and  counteraction  of  the 
lower  and  higher  affections  ; — the  conflict  of  the  flesh  with  the  spirit. 

Lastly,  the  theory  of  the  will,  results  from  the  relation  in  which  we  stand  to  the  di- 
vine power.  Here  we  have  the  exposition  of  human  liberty,  and  see  the  laws  of  human 
action  evolved  in  connection  with  those  of  intelligence  and  love.  And  thus  the  author 
succeeds  by  the  deductive  method  of  founding  a psychology  which  agrees  in  every  ra- 

* Vol.  ii.  book  i.  chaps.  7,  8.  f Vol.  ii.  p.  214,  &c. 

I Vol.  ii.  book  iii.  chaps.  5, 9 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FKANCE. 


537 


spect  'with  the  classification,  to  which  the  chief  inductive  systems  of  the  present  age 
have  arrived. 

The  third  volume  of  the  work  before  us,  treats  of  the  various  branches  of  human  ac- 
tivity ; — the  industrial  arts  — architecture — painting — sculpture — music— poetry — ora- 
tory, with  the  general  theory  of  the  beautiful. 

The  fourth  volume  treats  of  science,  in  which  the  author,  passing  through  the  dif- 
ferent branches  of  natural  philosophy  and  physiology,  shows  how  they  all  harmonize 
with  the  principles  he  has  established  in  his  fundamental  inquiries.  Thus  terminates 
the  science  of  man  in  his  individual  capacity.  The  two  remaining  volumes  are  in- 
tended to  discuss  the  philosophy  of  history,  and  the  doctrine  of  human  society ; and 
when  this  is  completed,  we  shall  have  the  sketch  of  a philosophy,  which,  however  its 
truth  be  adjudged,  none  can  deny  to  present  a noble  monument  of  the  highest  philo- 
sophical genius  and  power. 

As  an  effort  of  inventive  thinking  and  logical  deduction,  the  philosophy  we  have 
been  examining  is  doubtless  inferior  to  the  principal  German  syste.ms.  to  which  it  prob- 
ably owes  much  of  its  depth.  But  what  it  fails  in  point  of  originality,  is  amply  repaid 
us  in  point  of  style.  M-  de  Lamennais  is  reckoned  among  the  very  first  masters  of 
prose  composition,  and  no  exposition  we  could  give  of  his  ideas  can  convey  the  least 
conception  of  the  perspicuity,  the  brilliancy,  even  the  sublimity,  with  which  he  threads 
his  way  through  the  lofty  regions  of  thought  which  he  essays  to  track.  Taken  as  a 
whole,  we  know  of  few  modern  attempts  to  unite  the  whole  mass  of  human  knowledge 
in  one  connected  affiliation  of  ideas,  which  has  greater  claims  upon  the  attention 
of  every  philosophical,  and,  we  may  even  add,  of  every  earnest  and  religious  mind. 
Much  there  will,  doubtless,  be  to  reject,  but  strange  indeed  will  it  be,  if  in  such  a mass 
of  deep  and  oft-times  devotional  thinking,  we  do  not  gather  some  precious  germs  of 
truth,  which  will  far  more  than  repay  the  labor  which  may  be  expended  upon  it. 


There  are  several  other  works  besides  those  we  have  already 
mentioned,  which  might  be  discussed  in  connection  with  the  school 
of  philosophical  scepticism  grounding  itself  on  authority  ; of  these, 
however,  we  shall  hardly  do  more  than  mention  the  authors,  since 
in  them  all  the  principle,  metaphysically  considered,  is  the  same. 
The  Vicomte  de  Bonald,  born  1762,  died  1840,  one  of  those  to 
whom  we  refer,  is  usually  esteemed  a clever  and  elegant  metaphys- 
ical writer,  but  withal  there  is  an  air  of  sophistry  and  insincerity, 
which  much  detracts  from  the  value  of  his  writings,  and  creates 
suspicion,  even  where  perhaps  there  may  be  no  cause  for  it.  His 
principal  philosophical  work  is  entitled,  “ Recherches  Philosophi- 
ques,  sur  les  premiers  objets  des  Connaissances  Morales.”  (Paris, 
1838.)  The  first  chapter  takes  a rapid  glance  at  the  history  of 
philosophy,  holding  up  to  view  the  ocean  of  uncertainty  and  con- 
tradiction in  which  all  the  various  systems  have  been  involved. 
Having  made  the  best  of  this  disagreement,  he  seeks  for  some  one 
plain  and  palpable  fact,  as  the  absolute  foundation  of  our  knowledge ; 
and  finds  this  one  fact  in  the  gift  of  language.*  The  second  chap- 

* “ IP  s’agiroit  done  de  trouver  un  fait,  un  fait  sensible  et  exterieur,  un  fait  absolu- 
ment  primitif  et  a priori,  pour  parler  avec  I’ecole,  absolument  general,  absolument  evi- 
dent, absolument  perpetuel  dans  ses  effets;  un  fait  commun,  et  meme  usuel,  qui  put 
servir  de  base  a nos  connaissances,  de  principes  a nos  raisonnements,  de  point  fixe  de 
depart,  de  criterium  enfin  de  la  verite.  * * * Ce  fait  est  le  don  primitif  et  necessaire  du 
langage.” — Rech.  Phil.,  p.  86. 


538 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ter  treats  of  the  origin  of  language ; and  the  third  of  the  origin  of 
writing.  The  four  other  chapters  which  complete  the  first  volume, 
establish  the  true  definition  of  man,  as  ‘"intelligence  serviepar  des 
organes,”  enter  into  a brief  analysis  of  thought,  in  opposition  to 
the  ideologists ; and  treat  at  some  length  the  question  of  the  ex- 
pression of  our  ideas.  The  second  volume  establishes  the  imma- 
teriality of  the  soul,  discourses  of  primary,  secondary,  and  final 
causes,  and  ends  by  drawing  general  conclusions  from  the  whole 
inquiry. 

The  theory  then  which  M.  de  Bonald  advocates  respecting  the 
origin  of  human  knowledge  is  this  : — That  man  when  created 
must  have  been  furnished  by  God  with  a perfectly  formed  lan- 
guage (to  prove  which  he  enters  into  a great  variety  of  arguments.) 
That,  words  being  the  signs  of  ideas,  there  must  have  been  com^ 
municated  with  the  primitive  language  a considerable  stock  of  no- 
tions, which  form,  to  the  present  day,  the  nucleus  to  all  our  knowl- 
edge, and  which  have  been  transmitted  by  the  use  of  language 
unimpaired  from  one  generation  to  another.  That  it  is  vain  to 
seek  for  absolute  knowledge  from  our  own  consciousness,  from  the 
efforts  of  our  reason,  or  from  our  moral  nature  ; but  that  we  must 
find  it,  if  at  all,  in  the  relics  of  those  primitive  and  divinely  com- 
municated notions,  which  have  come  down  traditionally  from  age 
to  age,  and  which  are  preserved,  and  as  it  were  stereotyped,  in  the 
various  languages  of  mankind.* 

That  there  is  somewhat  of  ingenuity  in  the  theory  before  us,  and 
much  art  in  working  it  up  to  an  appearance  of  probability,  may  be 
readily  admitted ; but  there  are  two  considerations  especially 
which  deprive  it  at  once  of  much  of  its  value.  First,  it  cannot 
be  demonstrated  that  there  was  any  primitive  language  at  all,  be- 
yond the  natural  propensity  implanted  in  the  human  mind,  to  em- 
body its  thoughts  in  external  signs.  To  most  minds,  indeed,  the 
latter  hypothesis  is  by  far  the  more  probable  and  simple.  Again, 
if  we  are  to  study  truth  from  the  words  in  which  it  is  expressed, 
we  must  remember,  that  those  words  have  ideas  answering  to 
them ; so  that  after  all  it  is  to  the  human  reason  or  consciousness 
we  must  look  as  the  source  from  which  everything  proceeds,  and 
which  makes  words  themselves  the  fixed  representatives  of  thought. 
If  it  should  be  replied,  that  the  first  thoughts  of  the  mind  must 
have  been  divinely  inspired,  then  the  whole  question  is  removed 
from  the  platform  on  which  it  was  before  argued,  and  merges  into 

♦ See  chaps,  i.  and  ii. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


530 


the  higher  discussion  respecting  the  origin  of  our  ideas.  Taking 
up  the  matter  in  this  point  of  view,  we  think  that  our  author’s 
eloquence  would  hardly  serve  him  to  make  the  whole  theory  ap- 
pear in  quite  so  plausible  a light.* 

Another  variation  of  the  principle  of  authority  comes  before  us 
in  the  works  of  the  Abbe  Bautain.  A compendium  of  his  philo- 
sophical opinions  was  published  in  a small  tractate  in  the  year 
1833  ; this  treatise  has  since  been  republished  as  a preliminary  dis- 
course to  his  “ Psychologic  Experimentaie,”  (1839)  ; to  which  has 
since  been  added  another  work,  entitled  “ Philosophic  Morale,” 
(1842). 

The  Abbe  commences  by  mourning  the  present  state  of  intel- 
lectual disorganization  and  scepticism,  which  prevails  throughout 
society  in  his  native  country.  In  order  to  revive  the  belief  of  the 
people  in  all  the  great  truths  which  he  at  the  basis  of  human  hap- 
piness, he  affirms  that  we  must  have  recourse  to  philosophy,  not 
indeed  as  a source,  but  as  a guide  to  the  source  where  truth  alone 
can  be  found. 

To  what  philosophy,  then,  must  we  apply  as  most  capable  of 
taking  us  under  its  guidance  ? This  question  leads  our  author  to 
take  a rapid  glance  at  the  different  schools  at  present  in  vogue 
amongst  the  French  academic  institutions.  The  teaching  of  the 
universities  is  divided  between  three  systems: — 1.  The  sensation- 
alism of  Condillac  ; 2.  The  psychology  of  Scotland ; and,  3.  The 
modern  eclecticism  of  Paris.  With  regard  to  the  philosophy  of 
Condillac,  this  he  considers  is  already  virtually  defunct ; its  utter 
impotence  to  develop  any  other  than  the  most  shallow  and  useless 
truths,  has  been  well  nigh  universally  acknowledged.  To  the 
psychology  of  Scotland  somewhat  more  honor  must  be  assigned ; 
but  this  also  stops  short  before  all  the  most  important  and  signifi- 
cent  problems,  and  declares  them  incapable  of  solution.  Lastlv. 
the  eclectic  philosophy,  though  brilliant  in  its  first  appearance,  and 
profuse  in  its  promises,  yet  altogether  fails  of  rendering  us  any 
criterion  for  the  recognition  of  absolute  truth,  and  leads  ultimately 
into  the  abyss  of  pantheism. 

In  the  theological  seminaries  of  France,  two  philosophical  meth- 
ods are  recognized ; that  of  the  scholastic  rationalism,  and  that  of 
common  sense.  The  scholastic  system  is  a bare  logical  formalism, 

* The  other  two  principal  works  of  this  author,  the  “ Legislation  Primitive,”  and  the 
“ Melanges  Litteraires,  Politiques  et  Philosophiques,”  treat  almost  entirely  of  political 
and  (Economic  questions.  For  an  account  of  Bonald’s  literary  life,  see  “ Dictonnuire 
des  Sciences  Philosophiques,”  m loco. 


540 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which  ought  to  have  been  defunct  three  centuries  ago.  The  prin- 
ciple of  common  sense,  on  the  other  hand,  requires  some  little 
consideration.  By  this,  M.  Bautain  intends  to  signify  all  those 
systems  of  philosophy  which  essay  to  build  themselves  upon  the 
universal  testimony  of  mankind.  It  is  more  particularly  in  refer- 
ence to  M.  de  Lamennais  that  he  has  contested  this  principle, 
'file  doctrine  of  authority,  which  that  brilliant  writer  has  pro- 
pounded, as  resting  upon  the  catholic  testimony  of  mankind,  he 
considers  to  be  hampered  with  the  greatest  absurdity,  and  the  most 
palpable  contradictions.  The  theory,  he  shows,  comes  to  this,  that 
although  the  individual  reason  is  fallible,  yet  by  the  combination 
of  an  indefinite  number  of  fallible  minds,  we  may  at  length  attain 
to  a principle  of  infallibility.  M.  Bautain,  having  thus  cleared  all 
the  other  systems  of  the  country  out  of  his  way,  next  propounds 
his  own  doctrine,  namely,  that  all  infallible  truth  comes  from  God ; 
that  the  word  is  the  sole  source  to  which  we  have  to  look  ; that 
here  alone  we  gain  a fixed  point  to  rest  upon,  one  which  lies  en- 
tirely without  the  perpetual  oscillations  of  human  opinion.  Still 
philosophy  is  not  to  be  rejected.  It  has  once  led  the  mind  of  man 
away  from  the  truth,  by  its  false  pretensions:  now  it  has  to  make 
reparation  by  leading  him  back  to  the  only  source  where  eternal 
truth  can  be  found.  The  problem  of  philosophy,  therefore,  in  the 
present  day,  is  to  prove  the  necessity  of  a revelation,  and  show 
how  all  human  efforts  terminate  there,  as  in  their  last  resting  place, 
their  final  goal.* 

With  this  purpose  in  view,  the  author  has  entered  with  great 
learning  and  acuteness  into  the  question  of  pyschology  and  of 
morals.  Although  he  rests  all  ultimate  certitude  upon  divine  au- 
thority, yet  he  gives  a wide  and  a glorious  scope  for  philosophy,  in 
constituting  it  the  handmaid  of  revelation,  the  naidaywyog^  by  which 
we  are  to  be  conducted  into  the  higher  spheres  of  truth.  We  see 
not,  indeed,  (with  some  adjustments  respecting  the  primary 
grounds  of  certainty  in  matters  of  philosophy,)  any  obstacle 
against  our  forming  a coalition  with  the  principle  here  enunciated, 
namely,  that  philosophy  is  to  be  our  guide  into  those  higher  re- 
gions, where  we  can  gaze  upon  truth  only  by  the  superior  aid  of  a 
light  from  heaven. f 

Another  author,  differing  in  many  respects  from  the  preceding, 

^ Di.scours  Preliminaire. 

M.  Bautain,  together  with  MM.  Jouffroy  and  Damiron,  were  the  three  earliest  and 
most  able  pupils  of  Cousin  at  the  normal  school.  His  philosophy  often  betrays  tlie 
master-mind  who  instructed  him. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


541 


yet  maintaining  a theory  which  has  some  points  of  similarity,  is 
the  Baron  d’Eckstein.  This  erudite  writer,  though  a native  of 
Denmark,  yet,  from  the  conclusion  of  the  last  European  war,  be- 
came a regular  inhabitant  of  Fi'ance,  and  identified  himself  with 
her  in  all  her  religious  and  political  interests.  A man  of  great 
learning  as  well  as  great  readiness  in  embodying  his  opinions  in 
writing,  he  undertook  the  editorship  of  a periodical  entitled  “ Le 
Catholique,”  from  the  articles  of  which  alone  his  philosophy  is  to 
be  gathered.  With  a tone  more  mild  and  liberal  than  most  of 
those  we  have  already  noticed,  he  attached  himself,  for  the  most 
part,  to  the  views  of  that  theological  party,  denying  (and  here  con- 
sists his  scepticism)  the  possibility  of  obtaining  truth  from  the  tes- 
timony of  our  own  individual  consciousness,  or  the  efforts  of  our 
own  individual  reason,  but  referring  us,  for  that  purpose,  to  the 
authority  of  the  whole  mass  of  humanity. 

“ It  is  not  the  individual  man,”  he  affirms,  “ the  man  of  this  age 
or  of  this  country,  to  which  we  are  to  look,  but  to  the  ideal  man, 
the  type  and  model  of  the  whole  race.  But  where  is  this  to  be 
found,  except  in  Adam  and  in  Christ,  who  both  represent  our  na- 
ture ; the  one,  as  created  good,  and  then  fallen — the  other,  as  re- 
generated and  divinely  restored?  Christ  and  Adam! — here  we 
have  man — the  true  and  absolute  man.  What,  then,  must  we 
study  in  order  to  know  him?  We  must  consult  tradition;  we 
must  thoroughly  initiate  ourselves,  by  history,  into  the  real  sense 
of  primitive  Christian  tradition.  The  whole  is  an  affair  of  erudi- 
tion and  historical  criticism ; the  great  question  is,  to  examine  and 
understand  the  different  monuments,  which  can  retrace  to  us  these 
two  models  of  humanity — the  one  placed  at  the  cradle  of  the 
world,  the  other  at  its  re-creation.  First,  our  view  must  be  turned 
to  India,  and  the  regions  which  touch  upon  it ; then,  Greece  and 
Alexandria,  Rome  and  Judea;  all  these  announce,  prepare,  deter- 
mine, and  accompany  the  coming  of  the  God-man.  And  as,  from 
Adam  to  Christ,  and  from  Christ  to  our  own  time,  the  human  type 
which  they  bear  in  them,  has  not  passed  from  age  to  age,  from 
country  to  country,  without  altering — as  it  has  had  its  variations, 
its  accidents,  its  vicissitudes,  we  must  accordingly  follow  them 
through  all  their  movements ; we  must  explain  and  systematize 
them ; and  by  so  doing  only  can  we  embrace  the  whole  subject, 
and  give  to  our  ideas  the  character  of  catholicity.”* 

This  brief  summary  may  suffice  to  give  a general  idea  of  the 

* Damiron’s  “ Histoiie  de  Phil."  vol.  i.  p.  315. 


542 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


method  by  which  the  Baron  proposes  search  after  truth ; to  de- 
scribe his  distrust  in  all  purely  philosophical  processes  ; and  to  ex- 
plain on  what  grounds  it  is  that  he  lays  so  great  a stress  on  the 
principle  of  authority. 

From  the  views  we  have  given  of  the  theologico-sceptical  school 
in  France,  it  will  be  seen,  that,  while  all  its  advocates  take  their 
stand  upon  catholic  truth,  mediated  by  authority,  yet  the  principle 
of  authority  itself  is  accepted  in  many  different  significations. 
With  M.  de  Lamennais,  in  his  earlier  writings,  catholic  truth  was 
that  which  comes  down  to  us  by  human  testimony,  from  the  primi- 
tive revelations  of  God  to  mankind ; while  in  his  later  woi'ks,  it  is 
that  which  rests  upon  the  fundamental  beliefs  of  our  moral  and  in- 
tellectual nature.  With  M.  de  Bonald,  the  principle  of  authority 
vested  itself  in  the  primitive  fact  of  language;  a theory  by  which 
he  sought  to  establish  the  validity  and  divine  authority  both  of  the 
monarchical  and  ecclesiastical  institutions  of  the  Christian  world. 
With  the  Baron  d’Eckstein,  the  doctrine  of  authority  assumes  an- 
other and  more  genial  form ; it  is  authority  based  upon  the  deepest 
researches  into  the  historical  facts  and  catholic  beliefs  of  universal 
man.  The  more  narrow  and  least  tenable  theory  of  authority,  is 
that  of  M.  de  Maistre,  which  makes  catholic  truth  exist  simply  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Catholic  church,  and  ignores  all  philosophy  which 
does  not  base  itself  upon  its  peculiar  doctrines. 

This  latter  system  still  numbers  its  advocates  in  France,  and  is 
maintained,  in  some  instances,  with  an  amount  of  lemming  and 
ability,  which,  while  we  repudiate  the  doctrine,  commands  our  re- 
spect for  its  advocates.  We  might  mention  the  eloquent  “ con- 
ferences” of  M.  Lacordaire,  and  the  elaborate  work  of  M.  Nicolas 
on  Philosophy  applied  to  Religion,  as  recent  instances  of  the  ac- 
tivity of  this  school.  These,  however,  belong  more  to  the  depart- 
ment of  theology.  The  most  able  work  of  a purely  philosophical 
character  with  which  I am  acquainted,  is  an  “ Essay  on  Panthe- 
ism,” by  M.  Maret.*  As  this  essay  gives,  perhaps,  the  most  per- 
fect example  of  the  views  and  position  of  the  philosophico-catholic 
school  in  France,  at  the  present  time,  it  may  be  desirable  to  give 
a brief  exposition  of  its  plan  and  its  arguments. 

The  main  object  which  the  author  has  in  view,  is  to  fix  the 
charge  of  pantheism  upon  all  the  modern  philosophical  systems, 
and  then  to  hold  up  the  catholic  doctrine  as  the  only  alternative  to 
which  the  human  mind  can  have  recourse.  To  accomplish  this 

• “ Essai  surle  Pantlieisme  dans  les  Societes  modernes,”  par  H.  Maret.  (Paris,  1841.) 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


543 


purpose,  he  begins  by  an  examination  of  the  principal  idealistic 
systems  in  vogue  ; chiefly,  however,  of  those  advocated  in  France. 
The  most  prominent  of  these  is  the  philosophy  of  M.  Cousin. 
Having  done  justice  to  the  splendid  abilities  of  that  great  writer, 
he  proceeds  first  of  all  to  examine  the  prominent  doctrines  to 
which  the  weight  of  his  name  is  attached.  Taking  up  succes- 
sively his  theory  of  pure  reason,  of  the  infinite,  of  creation,  and 
of  history,  he  attempts  to  show,  that  they  will  imply  a varying, 
unsettled,  progressive  truth,  which  is  none  other  than  bringing 
down  the  infinite  to  the  finite  ; making  Deity  the  process  of  mind 
in  the  world,  and  instituting,  in  fact,  a disguised  pantheism.  The 
same  charge  which  is  thus  fixed  upon  the  master,  is  next  carried 
on  to  the  pupils.  MM.  JoufFroy  and  Damiron  are  both  held  up  to 
view  as  disguised,  perhaps  unconscious  pantheists  ; at  all  events, 
it  is  argued,  that  nothing  else  can  flow  from  the  principles  involved 
in  their  philosophy. 

The  very  same  fundamental  principles  are  next  discovered  in 
the  writings  of  MM.  Michelet,  Lerminier,  and  Guizot : for  do 
they  not  all  advocate  the  progi-essiveness  of  truth,  and  the  pro- 
gressiveness of  society ; and  do  they  not  regard  this  development 
of  humanity  as  the  revelation  of  the  Divine  ideas  ? If  God  thus 
develop  himself  in  humanity,  what  can  we  conclude,  but  that  he 
is  not  eternally  one  all-perfect  being ; but  is,  in  fact,  the  unity  and 
totality  of  all  thought  in  the  world — that  is,  one  with  the  uni- 
verse.* 

M.  Maret  next  approaches  the  various  systems  of  modern  mys- 
ticism. Collecting  together  the  views  of  Saint  Simon,  of  Fourier, 
of  Pierre  Leroux,  and  the  whole  school  of  social  progressionists, 
he  analyzes  them  much  in  the  same  way  as  those  of  the  eclectics, 
and  concludes  that  these  are,  even  in  a higher  degree  than  the 
former,  pantheistic  in  their  whole  nature  and  tendency. f These 
criticisms  being  completed,  we  have  in  the  next  chapter  the  real 
point  of  the  whole  essay,  namely,  that  there  is  no  possible  medium 
between  pantheism  on  the  one  side,  and  Catholicism  on  the  other. 
The  last  century  witnessed  the  spread  of  deistic  and  atheistic 
opinions.  These  were,  in  fact,  nothing  at  their  root  but  utter  and 
universal  scepticism.  They  explained  none  of  the  great  questions 
relating  to  the  universe,  none  relating  to  the  origin,  nature,  and 
destiny  of  man — in  a word,  they  rejected  all  truth  except  the  mere 
impressions  of  sense,  and  degraded  mankind,  morally  and  re- 

* “ Essai  sur  les  Pantheisme,”  chap.  i.  , -f-  Chap.  ii. 


544 


MODERN  riHLOSOPHY. 


ligiously  speaking,  to  the  level  of  the  brute.  In  the  present  cen- 
tury, scepticism  has  been  mastered  and  subdued.  The  great 
questions  respecting  the  universe,  the  soul,  and  the  Deity,  liave 
revived  ; tlie  belief  in  the  spiritual  has  returned  ; but  have  the 
problems  thus  excited  been  duly  solved,  and  repose  given  to  the 
mind  eager  for  truth  ? The  last  chapters  are  an  answer  to  this 
inquiry.  Every  attempt  at  a philosophical  solution  throughout 
Europe,  has  ended  in  pantheism ; and  thus  the  only  two  alternatives 
for  every  thinking  man,  is  either  to  declare  himself  a pantheist,  or 
to  take  refuge  in  the  bosom  of  the  Catholic  church.  The  whole 
question  may  be  reduced  to  a small  compass.  There  are,  says  the 
author,  trwo  notions  of  truth,  and  two  methods  of  investigating 
it.  First,  it  is  regarded  as  something  fixed  and  stable,  something 
which  knows  no  progression,  but,  when  once  grasped  by  the  mind, 
is  eternally  the  same.  This  is  the  catholic  view.  “ Catholicism 
starts  from  a divine  revelation  ; it  believes  that  the  divine  truths 
are  preserved  on  the  earth  by  a living  and  infallible  authority  ; in 
a word,  it  assigns  to  this  authority,  as  the  depositary  of  the  divine 
word,  characters  which  distinguish  it  from  all  without,  and  permit 
all  men  to  read  upon  it  the  seal  of  God.”  “ The  second  notion  of 
truth  represents  it  as  moving,  variable,  progressive.  Truth  is  es- 
sentially relative  to  the  age  and  the  manners ; it  follows  the  move- 
ments of  time,  the  modifications  of  space.  Truth,  then,  is  not  the 
point  of  departure  for  humanity,  it  is  rather  the  term  to  which  we 
seek  to  arrive.”  These,  according  to  M.  Maret,  are  the  two  alter- 
nations to  which  every  reflecting  mind  must  come,  and  the  claims 
of  which  are  forever  irreconcilable.  A.ccept  the  latter,  and  you 
accept  pantheism ; accept  the  former,  and  you  find  rest  in  the  in- 
fallibility of  the  Church. 

The  matter  being  brought  to  this  crisis,  the  author’s  work  be- 
comes now  straightforward.  He  has  simply  to  refute  the  one 
alternative,  and  maintain  the  other.  To  do  this,  he  offers  us  a 
rapid  history  of  pantheism  from  the  earliest  ages,  and  collecting  its 
fundamental  principles,  first  classifies,  and  then  demolishes  them  at 
his  leisure.  Next  he  gives  us  a summary  of  the  Catholic  doctrine, 
and  ends  by  repelling  the  objections  of  rationalists  and  unbelievers 
against  Christianity,  as  though  by  that  means  he  were  defending 
and  establishing  Catholicism. 

The  work,  as  a whole,  though  exhibiting  much  talent,  is  as  fine 
a specimen  of  Jesuitical  sophistry  as  could  very  well  be  adduced. 
It  evinces  the  talent  (so  necessary  to  the  sophist)  of  passing  over 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


545 


the  crucial  points  of  the  question  with  an  air  of  confident  rapidity, 
and  then  bringing  whole  magazines  of  artillery  against  doctrines 
which  his  opponents  really  hold  no  more  than  himself.  The  charge 
of  pantheism  affixed  to  the  whole  range  of  modern  philosophy,  is 
as  unjust  as  it  is  absurd ; and  the  imputation  of  consequences  upon 
which  that  whole  charge  is  built,  one  of  the  most  insidious  of  all 
the  logical  fallacies.  The  authors  whom  he  criticizes,  are  in  most 
instances  quite  as  strongly  opposed  to  pantheism  as  he  is  ; and, 
even  if  it  were  not  so,  they  do  not  present  every  alternative  which 
modern  philosophy  can  exhibit  on  the  idealistic  side  of  the  question. 
But  to  come  to  the  main  point  of  the  argument,  namely,  the  two 
views  of  truth,  on  which  the  author  erects  his  whole  superstructure ; 
what  real  force  is  there,  after  all,  in  this  much  vaunted  demonstra- 
tion ? None  whatever.  It  all  proceeds  upon  the  confusion  of 
Truth,  regarded  in  its  objective,  and  in  its  subjective  point  of  view. 
We  admit, — all  philosophers,  except  professed  pantheists,  admit  that 
truth,  objectively  considered,  is  fixed  and  eternal.  What  writers, 
in  fact,  have  maintained  the  eternal  and  immutable  distinctions  of 
moral  relations  more  earnestly  than  the  very  philosophers  he  up- 
braids and  opposes  ? At  the  same  time,  there  is  assuredly  a prog- 
ress in  the  subjective  signification  which  mankind  attach  to  these 
objective  realities.  Has  not  religion  itself,  though  objectively  the 
same,  appeared  under  different  forms  in  different  dispensations  ? 
and  can  the  eternal  ideas  which  Christianity  involves,  be  manifested 
to  the  human  mind  through  every  age  of  the  world  alike  ? Under 
the  light  of  this  very  simple  and  obvious  distinction,  the  argument 
we  are  considering  vanishes  into  a perfect  nonentity  : we  still  see 
that  truth  may  be  one,  and  yet  that  the  human  mind  may  make 
continued  advancement  in  the  development  of  it ; nay,  that  it  is 
necessary  to  prevent  the  absolute  stagnation  of  the  human  intel- 
lect, that  it  should  be  ever  pressing  onwards  to  higher  perfection. 
For  here  we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  (teach)  in  part ; and 
it  is  not  till  that  which  is  perfect  be  come,  that  that  which  is  in 
part  shall  be  done  away. 

We  should  say,  therefore,  that  instead  of  there  being  no  medium-, 
between  the  pantheist  and  the  catholic,  the  truth  lies  precisely  in  this 
middle  point,  which  is  altogether  passed  over.  The  pantheist  takes 
his  stand  upon  the  subjective  principle,  the  Romanist  upon  the  ob- 
jective ; the  stand-point  of  a truly  catholic  system  is  in  thn  centre 
between  both.  While  it  admits  the  immutability  of  truth  objectively 
considered,  it  maintains  the  doctrine  of  progress  as  it  regards  truth 

35 


546 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


subjectively  considered.  And  thus  while  it  upholds  the  unity,  the 
personality,  and  the  unchangeableness  of  God,  it  throws  the  incentive 
of  hope  into  the  field  of  human  research,  and  instead  of  bidding  us 
pace  the  monotony  of  one  eternal  circle  of  ideas,  tells  us  to  gird 
our  faculties  to  new  achievements,  and  to  prepare  the  world  for  a 
happier  day. 

In  concluding  this  sketch  of  the  French  authoritative  scepticism* 
we  shall  make  one  or  two  observations  upon  the  principle  of  au- 
thority itself.  And,  first  of  all,  we  are  far  from  denying  its  value, 
upon  many  important  topics  within  the  range  of  human  knowledge. 
In  theology,  for  example,  when  once  we  have  got  beyond  the  pre- 
cincts of  natural  religion,  authority  is  our  best  guide ; — inspired 
authority  standing  foremost,  that  of  tradition  acting  occasionally  as 
its  interpreter.  With  the  truth  affirmed  by  such  authority,  philos- 
ophy has  little  to  do,  except  expounding  the  ideas  on  which  it  rests, 
and  testing  the  validity  of  the  evidence  by  which  it  is  upheld  ; for 
beyond  this  it  can  only  reserve  for  itself  the  power  of  pronouncing 
a veto  upon  any  dogma  which  contradicts  our  natural  faculties. 
The  God  of  revelation  and  the  Creator  of  the  human  faculties  are 
the  same  ; and  if  these  seem  to  contradict  each  other,  it  only  proves 
either  that  the  revelation  is  spurious,  (we  know  that  our  faculties 
are  not,)  or  that  we  have  misinterpreted  its  meaning.  With  this 
exception,  however,  we  conceive  that  the  authority  of  a well-au- 
thenticated revelation  must  be  regarded,  within  its  own  proper 
limits,  as  paramount  and  supreme. 

Authorit)^  however,  while  it  is  most  valuable  within  the  province 
of  theology,  yet,  even  within  the  range  of  philosophy  itself,  is  often 
of  no  little  service.  The  appeal  to  the  common  consent  of  man- 
kind, is  one  which  has  great  weight  in  aiding  us  to  determine  ac- 
curately the  entire  phenomena  of  the  human  consciousness.  Indi- 
vidual observation  may  prove  imperfect  or  fallacious  ; but  where 
the  common  consent  of  mankind  bears  testimony  to  the  certainty 
and  uniformity  of  any  of  our  mental  phenomena,  M’^e  can  have  the 
less  hesitation  in  regarding  them  as  valid.  What  other  than  the 
principle  of  authority,  as  far  as  regards  psychical  observation,  was 
that  of  Reid,  when  he  appealed  to  the  common  sense  of  mankind  ? 
What  other  is  the  principle  of  all  who  strengthen  the  testimony  of 
their  own  consciousness  by  that  of  their  fellow  creatures  ? In  phi- 
losophy itself,  therefore,  authority  is  not  to  be  altogether  despised  ; 
while  with  regard  to  matters  of  faith  and  mere  opinion,  it  is  the 
great  appeal  in  which  we  must  take  refuge — the  best  guide  by 


SCEPTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


54? 


which  we  can  be  directed — the  clearest  voice  that  speaks  to  us 
amidst  the  discordant  sound  of  private  judgment. 

Now  the  error  of  the  school  which  we  have  just  described  lies 
here, — that  instead  of  thankfully  receiving  the  aid  of  authority  in 
those  questions  on  which  it  is  entitled  to  speak,  it  has  exaggerated, 
if  not  its  value,  still  the  extent  of  its  application,  and  made  it  at 
length  the  sole  organ  or  channel  of  all  truth.  The  fallacy  couched 
in  this  procedure  becomes  evident  at  once  from  the  consideration, 
that  no  truth  which  comes  to  us  through  a secondary  medium,  as 
does  that  of  authority,  can  be  absolute  sxiA  fundamental.  However 
unobjectionable  the  medium  itself  may  be,  still  the  knowledge  it 
conveys  has  to  be  received  through  our  own  faculties  ; and  if  those 
faculties  be  not  of  equal  credibility,  of  course  the  whole  result  may 
be  vitiated.  To  plant  oneself  upon  authority,  and  then  deny  the 
validity  of  the  human  intelligence  to  discover,  test,  or  appreciate 
truth,  is  like  sawing  off  the  bough  of  the  tree  upon  which  we  are 
standing.  As  the  bough,  severed  from  the  stem,  must  fall  and  hurl 
us  with  it  to  the  earth,  so  authority,  if  severed  from  the  whole  tree 
of  human  knowledge,  must  sink  to  the  ground,  and  carry  those  who 
trust  to  it  to  the  same  ruin.  God  makes  his  first  and  fundamental 
revelation  to  us  in  the  constitution  of  our  own  minds.  If  the  cred- 
ibility of  this  primitive  revelation  be  rejected,  it  is  impossible  ever 
to  prove  the  reality  of  any  other.  For  how  can  we  prove  it  ? 
How,  except  by  the  laws  of  reason  and  the  rules  of  testimony  ? 
In  these,  accordingly,  all  truth,  as  far  as  we  are  concerned,  must 
be  grounded ; and  the  scepticism,  which  would  shake  their  author- 
ity, though  it  attempt  to  furnish  another  in  its  place,  must  at  length 
prove  detrimental  to  the  stability  of  the  whole  edifice  of  human 
knowledge. 


The  scepticism  we  have  just  described  is  without  doubt  that 
which  possesses,  in  France,  the  most  learned  and  accomplished 
supporters.  It  is  by  no  means,  however,  that  under  which  the 
greatest  number  of  minds  in  that  country  are  to  be  enrolled.  In 
England,  the  popular  scepticism,  if  there  be  any,  is  that  which 
sacrifices  philosophy  on  the  shrine  of  theological  faith  : in  France, 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  rather  of  the  nature  we  have  already  de- 
scribed, under  the  appellation  of  the  scepticism  of  ignorance — a 
scepticism  in  which  many  of  the  most  necessary  beliefs  of  human- 


548 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ity  have  been  altogether  lost.  The  history  of  France,  during  the 
last  two  or  three  centuries,  unfolds  to  us  the  process,  by  which  that 
country  has  well  nigh  sunk  its  faith  in  God  and  immortality.  The 
age  of  the  Reformation  caused  to  resound  through  the  French 
provinces,  as  it  did  through  the  whole  of  Europe,  the  war-cry  of 
intelligence  and  liberty  against  spiritual  despotism.  Persecution 
and  bloodshed  followed,  and  the  holiest  precepts  of  religion  were 
often  violated  by  those,  who  stood  forth  as  its  firmest  champions. 
The  effect  of  this  upon  the  minds,  that  stood  by  to  gaze  upon  the 
contest,  could  not  be  long  of  an  equivocal  nature.  Their  faith  in 
the  Christianity  they  professed  was  shaken  at  once  by  the  argu- 
ments of  the  Reformer,  and  the  practice  of  the  Catholic,  the  former 
appealing  to  their  intellectual,  the  latter  to  their  moral  nature  ; and 
they  learned,  unhappily,  to  despise  the  one,  before  their  belief  was 
replaced  by  the  other.  The  results  of  this  soon  became  evident  in 
the  rise  of  men,  who,  like  Voltaire,  sported  with  the  most  solemn 
truths  of  human  belief;  in  the  establishment  of  the  atheistical 
school  of  the  French  Encyclopaedists;  and,  what  was  still  more 
decisive,  in  the  sympathy  with  which  their  works  were  greeted  by 
thousands  throughout  the  country. 

What  was  thus  fairly  commenced,  the  horrors  of  the  Revolution 
so  effectually  completed,  that  there  was  hardly  a single  region  of 
human  thought  in  which  the  tide  of  opposition,  that  raged  against 
everything  existing  under  the  old  regime,  was  not  manifested. 
Monarchical  institutions  gave  way  to  complete  democracy ; the 
various  classes  of  human  society  were  all  thrown  down  to  the 
broad  level  of  citizenship ; the  religion  of  Christ  (the  religion  of 
pure  spirituality)  gave  way  to  the  grossest  materialism ; the  mo- 
rality of  ithe  Gospel,  which  enjoins  self-sacrifice,  was  exchanged  for 
that  selfish  system  which  knows  no  good  but  pleasure,  no  evil  but 
pain.  The  reaction,  in  a word,  was  intense,  complete,  universal, 
and  as  the  next  generation  (one  which  had  been  born  and  fostered 
in  these  principles)  grew  up,  though  there  was  still  the  moral 
nature  and  the  religious  capacity  innate  within  them,  yet,  alas ! 
there  was  no  lofty  virtue  for  the  one,  no  God  for  the  other.  The 
nineteenth  century,  accordingly,  has  exhibited  to  us  the  people  of 
France,  to  a vast  extent,  without  a belief  in  the  great  truths  of  God 
and  immortality : happy  will  it  be,  if,  too  eager  to  supply  this  want, 
it  does  not  again  rush  into  the  dim  regions  of  religious  mysticism 
and  superstition.  Perhaps  we  should  be  hardly  correct  in  terming 
the  scepticism  of  ignorance  a philosophical  school  at  all : it  is  rather 


SCEPTICISM  IN  GEKMANV. 


549 


the  negation  of  a school ; still  it  is  a great  fact  in  the  present  aspect 
of  that  country,  and,  as  such,  we  thought  it  not  right  to  pass  it  by 
without  a cursory  notice. 

Sect.  III. — Modern  Scepticism  in  Germany. 

The  intellectual  atmosphere  of  Germany  is  one  by  no  means 
calculated  to  encourage  the  growth  of  scepticism,  least  of  all  to 
cherish  those  two  species  of  it,  which  we  have  described  as  exist- 
ing to  a large  extent  in  France.  Whatever  other  characteristics 
the  German  mind  may  or  may  not  possess,  there  are  few  who 
would  deny  to  it  a power  of  deep  reflection  upon  the  world  within, 
and  a quiet  independence  that  loves  to  probe  every  moral  question 
to  its  foundations.  The  Germans  have  long  proved  themselves  to 
be  the  thinkers  and  the  investigators  of  Europe,  furnishing  the 
material  out  of  which  the  more  adroit  and  polished  minds  of  Eng- 
land and  France  draw  perpetual  supplies  for  their  higher  literary 
productions. 

If  this  be  true,  what  should  we  say  is  likely  to  be  the  influence 
of  two  such  mental  qualities  as  those  above  mentioned,  in  relation 
to  the  progress  of  philosophy  ? It  appears  evident,  we  think,  at 
first  sight,  that  a people  who  reflect  deeply,  and  who  investigate 
patiently,  are  not  likely  to  become,  to  any  wide  extent,  involved' 
in  the  scepticism  of  ignorance.  It  is  those  who  allow  their  faith 
to  be  destroyed,  without  having  reflective  habits  of  mind  suffi- 
ciently active  to  supply  the  loss  with  equal  rapidity,  that  are  liable 
to  fall  into  such  a state  of  mind.  The  German  mind,  however, 
cannot  well  be  without  a faith.  If  one  system  of  belief  falls  an- 
other rapidly  springs  up  ; if  one  dogma  comes  to  an  end,  another 
is  ready  on  the  instant  to  take  its  place.  So  great  is  the  fertility 
of  thought  and  speculation  in  the  German  world  of  intellect,  that 
there  seem  to  be  theories  in  store  to  supply  any  imaginable  series 
of  intellectual  loss  that  the  future  may  present.  There  may  be 
among  the  Germans  hypotheses  monstrous  as  well  as  credible, 
there  may  be  systems  of  metaphysics  and  of  theology  extravagant 
as  well  as  sober ; there  may  be  fancies  for  the  poetical,  and  wan- 
derings for  the  eccentric ; but  there  cannot  well  be  an  absolute 
nonentity  of  belief  from  not  knowing  what  there  is  to  believe. 

These  same  mental  qualities,  again,  stand  almost  as  much  op- 
posed to  the  scepticism  of  authority.  To  search  into  the  monu- 


550 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


merits  of  antiquity,  is,  indeed,  a labor  for  which  the  German  mind 
is  admirably  qualified  ; but  when  all  the  authority  of  these  records 
is  discovered,  its  independence  prompts  further  questions  of  this 
nature  : — What  is  the  authority  of  this  authority  ? What  means 
had  men  of  yore  to  discover  truth  more  than  I have  myself?  Or, 
if  the  authority  be  Divine,  the  question  still  comes,  What  is  the 
testimony  on  which  it  rests  ? What  the  process  by  which  it 
reaches  my  own  mind  ? What  the  ideas  it  involves?  The  Ger- 
man thinker  is  too  subjective  in  his  views  and  tendencies  to  be 
satisfied  with  any  merely  objective  evidence.  He  wants  to  know 
what  must  necessarily  be  true  to  himself  individually ; what  con- 
fidence is  to  be  placed  even  in  the  dictates  of  his  own  reason  and 
his  own  consciousness  ; in  other  words,  he  wants  a fundamental 
philosophy  as  a substratum,  before  he  can  allow  to  authority  the 
command,  which  it  claims  over  the  human  mind. 

The  only  scepticism,  then,  of  which  Germany  is  in  danger,  is 
that  of  the  philosophical  or  absolute  kind  ; for,  should  the  reflec- 
tions and  the  investigations  of  her  metaphysicians  in  any  instan- 
ces so  clash  with  one  another,  that  no  definite  results  can  be  ar- 
rived at,  such  a scepticism,  of  course,  must  follow.  The  only 
instance,  perhaps,  in  the  whole  philosophical  history  of  Germany, 
in  which  a shallow  scepticism  came  into  vogue,  is  to  be  found  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  the  Leibnitzian-Wolfian  metaphysics.  At  that 
•time  the  influx  of  French  writers,  on  the  one  hand,  disseminated  a 
low,  worthless  sensationalism  ; while,  on  the  other,  the  pedantry 
and  formalism  mf  the  idealistic  school  brought  the  deeper  method 
of  philosophizing  into  universal  contempt.  The  result  was  what 
we  just  remarked  ; a low,  shallow,  and  railing  scepticism,  un-Ger- 
man in  its  real  character,  but  rendered  sufficiently  influential  by 
circumstances  to  produce  a baneful  effect,  both  upon  literature 
and  morals.  It  was  this,  in  fact,  that  roused  up  the  mighty  spirit 
of  Kant  to  an  intellectual  effort,  which  swept  away  all  the  minor 
actors  from  the  stage,  and  commenced  a new  scene  in  the  won- 
drous drama  of  the  world’s  philosophy. 

Whilst  Kant,  however,  opposed  so  successfully  the  shallow  scep- 
ticism of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  his  philosophy  contained  many 
germs  of  another  species  of  scepticism  far  more  deep  and  philo- 
sophical. Determined  to  silence  forever  the  quibbles  and  sophis- 
tries, in  which  so  many  were  indulging,  respecting  the  fundamenta 
questions  of  ontology,  of  morals,  of  religion,  he  conceived  the  idea 
of  removing  them  into  a region  altogether  inaccessible  to  the  reach 


SCEPTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


551 


of  ordinary  logic,  and  there  to  let  them  repose  in  solemn  majesty. 
The  general  idea  of  the  Kantian  metaphysics  is,  we  trust,  suffi- 
ciently remembered  by  the  attentive  reader  to  render  repetition 
needless ; but  still,  to  prevent  the  obscurity,  which  a too  great 
brevity  might  cause,  we  shall  re-enumerate  one  or  two  of  the  prin- 
cipal conclusions.  Of  the  three  great  faculties  of  the  human  mind, 
sensation,  understanding,  and  reason,  the  first  alone  is  capable  of 
furnishing  the  material  of  our  knowledge,  the  two  latter  are  merely 
formal.  Sensation  gives  us  the  simple  fact  of  objective  existence  ; 
understanding  gives  form  to  whatever  notions  we  may  have  of  it. 
Sensation,  accordingly,  in  making  knowm  to  us  the  reality  of  an 
objective  world,  does  not  tell  us  of  what  it  consists,  whether  it  be 
of  a spiritual  or  of  any  other  essence ; it  simply  assures  us  of  ob- 
jective ’phenomena ; and  to  these  phenomena,  accordingly,  our  real 
knowledge  of  the  world  without  must  be  confined.  Again  : since 
the  understanding  gives  to  our  notions  all  their  peculiar  forms  and 
aspects,  defining  their  quantity,  quality,  relation,  and  mode  of  ex- 
istence, this  part  of  our  knowledge  must  be  purely  subjective,  and 
its  truth,  consequently,  depend  upon  the  validity  of  our  faculties. 
But  further  ; not  only  is  the  understanding  merely  formal  in  its 
nature,  but  reason  is  so  likewise.  Reason  strives  to  bring  the 
notions  of  the  understanding  to  a systematic  unity,  and  in  doing 
so  it  personifies  its  own  laws,  and  regards  them  as  having  a real 
objective  existence ; the  three  personifications  being  the  soul,  the 
universe,  and  the  Deity.  Any  logical  reasoning  upon  these  three 
ideas,  upon  their  existence,  or  their  nature,  Kant  shows  to  be  en- 
tirely fallacious,  giving  rise  in  each  instance  to  endless  paralogisms. 
They  are,  in  fact,  as  ideas,  the  spontaneous  productions  of  our  own 
reason,  and  to  argue  upon  them  as  being  either  realities  or  non- 
realities, is  allowing  the  understanding  to  intrude  upon  a province 
(that,  namely,  of  the  supersensual  or  spiritual)  with  which  it  has 
nothing  whatever  to  do. 

In  this  way,  Kant  removed  the  chief  points  around  which  scep- 
ticism delighted  to  linger  entirely  out  of  the  reach  of  all  argumenta- 
tion. If  any  one  disputed  respecting  the  material  world,  his  reply 
was,  “ Of  what  value  is  discussion  about  an  existence,  of  which  we 
can  never  know  aught  beyond  mere  phenomena  ?”  Should  any 
one  contest  or  propound  any  theories  respecting  the  nature  of  the 
soul,  the  origin  of  the  world,  or  the  existence  of  God,  the  same 
withering  repulse  was  given,  “ Why  reason  of  that  which  lies  be- 
yond all  reasoning  ?”  “ Your  notions  of  the  soul,  of  the  universe. 


552 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  God,”  he  would  continue,  “are  but  subjective  ideas;  they  are 
personifications  of  your  own  mental  processes ; I can  give  you 
strong  reasons  of  a moral  nature  to  believe  in  the  soul  and  in  God ; 
but,  as  for  theoretical  science,  it  is  incapable  of  saying  anything 
whatever,  whether  it  be  for  or  against.^’’ 

But  now  it  becomes  a question  to  us,  whether  Kant,  in  cutting 
off  the  plea  of  the  sceptic  of  his  day,  did  not  prove  too  much ; 
and  whether  he  .does  not  give  occasion  to  another  kind  of  scepti- 
cism, more  deeply  laid  than  that  which  he  destroyed.  Let  us  see 
the  results,  to  which  his  principles  gave  origin.  Reinhold,  whom 
we  must  look  upon  as  the  immediate  continuator  of  Kant’s  philos- 
ophy, was  dissatisfied  with  the  analysis  which  it  furnished  of  the 
perceptive  faculty.  The  truth  of  our  sense-perceptions,  he  con- 
sidered, was  too  rapidly  taken  for  granted ; and  he  suggested, 
therefore,  the  propriety,  nay,  the  necessity,  of  going  one  step  back- 
wards, and  analyzing  the  consciousness  itself,  as  that  in  which  the 
perceptions  themselves  are  to  be  found.  The  reality,  therefore,  of 
an  objective  world  lying  without  our  consciousness  was  put  in  a 
much  less  obvious  light  by  Reinhold  than  by  Kant.  The  latter 
took  the  phenomena  of  sense  at  once  for  granted,  as  much  so, 
indeed,  as  did  Locke  himself ; the  former,  on  the  contrary,  affirmed, 
that  a.  philosophical  conviction  of  their  reality  must  result  from  a 
due  analysis  of  the  consciousness,  and  a recognition  of  the  objec- 
tive element  which  it  contains. 

The  spirit  of  speculation  being  thus  once  more  aroused,  scepti- 
cism began  to  make  its  formal  appearance  in  the  person  of  Gottlob 
Ernst  Schulze,  then  professor  of  philosophy  at  the  university  of 
Helmstadt.  In  the  year  1792,  Schulze  published  an  anonymous 
work,  entitled,  “.^nesidemus,  ora  Treatise  on  the  Principles  of  the 
fundamental  Philosophy  of  Professor  Reinhold.”*'  In  this  work  he 
denies  that  Reinhold  has  succeeded  in  proving,  that  any  distinction 
of  subject  and  object,  of  matter  and  form,  can  be  learned  from  the 
analysis  of  man’s  inner  consciousness.  There  exist  in  the  con- 
sciousness itself,  without  any  controversy,  the  varied  phenomena 
which  it  presents  to  us  ; but  as  to  separating  these  phenomena  into 
different  elements,  and  showing  that  the  one  belongs  to  the  subjec- 
tive, the  other  to  the  objective  world,  this  he  affirms  to  be  impossible 

♦ .®nesidemus,  oder  iiber  die  Fundamente  der  von  dem  Herrn  Professor  Reinhold, 
in  Jena  gelieferten  Elementar-philosophie,  nebst  Finer  Vertheidigung  des  Skepticismus 
gegen  die  Anmassungen  der  vernunftkritik.  (1792.)  The  strain  of  this  work  is  purely 
critical : its  sole  object  being  to  confute  the  attempt  of  Reinhold  to  found  a purely  ra- 
tional and  dogmatical  system,  respecting  the  human  consciousness  and  the  certainty 
of  our  knowledge  respecting  the  objectively  real. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


553 


In  urging  these  results,  Schulze  did  not  intend  to  deny  the  ex- 
istence of  an  objective  world,  he  merely  intended  to  show,  that  it 
is  impossible  for  us  to  prove  it.  His  scepticism,  therefore,  consists 
in  the  conviction  he  professed,  that  a fundamental  philosophy,  in 
which  the  phenomena  of  existence  are  explained  and  man’s  rela- 
tion to  the  outward  world  deduced,  cannot  possibly  be  realized. 
His  reasons  for  this  are  condensed  by  Michelet,  in  his  History  of 
Modern  Philosophy,  into  the  following  particulars.  First,  in  so  far 
as  speculative  philosophy  must  be  a science  (Wissenschaft),  it  re- 
quires principles  which  are  unconditionally  true.  Such  principles, 
however,  are  impossible,  because  the  coincidence  of  the  idea  of  a 
thing  with  the  thing  itself  is  never  given  necessarily  and  imme- 
diately. Secondly,  whatever  the  speculative  philosopher  asserts 
that  he  knows  respecting  the  fundamental  principles  of  conditional 
existence  around  him,  he  knows  only  through  the  medium  of  his 
own  ideas.  The  understanding,  however,  which  is  conversant 
simply  with  ideas,  has  no  power  to  represent  to  itself  any  objective 
reality.  Representations  are  not  things  themselves,  and  ideas  can 
never  decide  upon  the  objectively  real.  Thirdly,  the  speculative 
philosopher  rests  his  science  of  the  absolute  grounds  of  conditional 
existence  mainly  upon  an  inference  drawn  from  the  nature  of  an 
effect  to  the  nature  of  a corresponding  cause.  From  the  nature  of 
an  effect,  however,  that  of  its  cause  cannot  with  the  slightest  safety 
be  concluded  j for,  that  is  no  other  than  concluding  the  conditioned 
from  the  unconditioned.  By  arguments  of  this  kind,  Schulze  aimed 
at  resisting  the  pretensions  of  speculative  philosophy  ; and  had  he 
followed  out  his  principles,  would,  in  all  probability,  have  furnished 
in  its  place  a theory  of  human  knowledge  grounded  entirely  upon 
experience  as  the  only  real  foundation.* 

The  sceptical  tendency,  however,  which  was  so  plainly  mani- 
fested by  Schulze,  was  not  followed  up  to  any  extent  by  after- 
writers. Jacob  Sigismond  Beck  and  Salomon  Maimon,  it  is  true, 
added  somewhat  to  the  sceptical  arguments  against  Reinhold,  and 
for  some  time  threatened  to  found  another  school  of  philosophy, 
in  which  all  the  conclusions  of  the  human  reason  respecting  the 
grounds  of  our  knowledge  should  be  contested  and  denied. f This 

* .Schulze’s  views  respecting  the  real  nature  of  human  knowledge  are  contained  in 
his  “ Kritik  der  theoretischen  Philosophic.”  This  is  termed  dogmatical  scepticism,  in 
contradistinction  to  the  other  work,  which  is  termed  “ Critical  Scepticism,”  or  “ Anti- 
dogmatism.”  See  Michelet,  vol.  i.  p.  245,  et  seq. 

t Beck’s  “ Einziff  mdglicher  Standpunkt,”  was  a work  of  some  reputation.  He  op- 
posed alike  Reinhold  and  Schulze,  and  maintained  a system,  not  of  empirical  scepti- 
cism, like  the  latter,  but  a system  of  idealistic  scepticism,  which  was  not  far  from  tread- 
ing upon  the  verge  of  Fichte’s  subjective  idealism. 


554 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


sceptical  tendency,  however,  proved  of  short  duration  ; and  from 
the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  the  present  hour,  Ger- 
many has  presented  no  school  whatever,  we  might  almost  say  no 
individual,  who  could  be  accused  of  cherishing  the  spirit  of  abso 
lute  scepticism. 

The  younger  Fichte,  in  summing  up  the  different  directions  in 
which  the  speculative  spirit  of  Germany  in  modern  times  has 
flowed,  makes  the  following  mention  of  Schulze  and  his  principles, 
together  with  their  nature  and  their  origin  : — “ The  reflecting  (or 
subjective)  school,  since  its  revival  by  Kant  and  Jacobi,  has  in- 
cluded within  itself  its  whole  process  of  development.  We  need 
only  to  place  the  individual  forms  of  it  as  they  stand  by  themselves 
in  connection,  or  to  develop  them  logically  from  one  another,  in 
order  to  embrace  the  whole  cycle  of  their  possible  phases.  The 
separation  of  the  consciousness  from  objective  reality  in  our  reflec- 
tion, can,  on  the  one  hand,  proceed  to  the  complete  negation  of 
the  possibility  of  deciding  upon  truth  (scepticism  of  Schulze)  ; or, 
on  the  other  hand,  reflection  may  bethink  itself  of  the  original  and 
unalterable  certainty  attached  to  the  consciousness,  whether  it 
arise  from  faith  or  intuitive  reason.  If  the  certainty  arise  from 
faith,  as  with  Jacobi,  then  bare  reflective  knowledge  is  regarded  as 
empty,  unnecessary,  yea,  superfluous  in  the  acquisition  of  truth : 
if  it  arise  from  intuitive  reason,  then  there  is  room  left  for  a species 
of  thinking  between  reflection  and  immediate  faith.  Fries,  there- 
fore, the  connecting  link  between  Kant  and  Jacobi,  placed  knowl- 
edge and  faith  as  directly  opposed  to  each  other — the  one  referring 
to  the  world  of  phenomena,  the  other  to  the  higher  world  of  ideas. 
Boutterwek  again,  showed  the  unsatisfactory  nature  of  this  relation, 
pointing  out  the  alternative,  either  of  giving  one’s  self  up  entirely 
to  faith,  or  of  boldly  carrying  out  the  principles  of  scepticism. 
Eschenmayer,  at  length,  embraced  the  former  of  these  opposites, 
in  which  he  realized  the  direct  extreme  of  the  contrary  hypothesis 
of  Schulze.”* 

Such  are  the  different  hypotheses  which,  according  to  Fichte, 
may  arise  from  the  separation  of  subject  and  object  in  the  human 
consciousness  by  means  of  reflection.  How  far  the  sceptical  ten- 
dency might  have  been  followed  out,  had  nothing  occurred  to  stop 
its  career,  it  is  impossible  to  say  ; but  just  at  the  juncture  to  which 
our  present  history  refers,  Fichte  began  to  pour  forth  his  startling 
idealism,  and  to  draw  away  the  whole  philosophical  world  in  that 

* “ Gegensatz  Wendcpunkt  und  Ziel  heutiger  Philosophie,”  Part  i.  p.  298. 


SCEPTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


555 


direction.  Instead  of  speculating  any  longer  upon  the  evidence  of 
the  objective  element  in  our  consciousness,  instead  of  appealing  to 
faith,  or  intuitive  reason,  or  any  other  principle,  by  which  its  real- 
ity might  be  established,  Fichte  boldly  denied  the  real  existence  of 
it  in  philosophy  altogether ; accounted  for  the  phenomena  of  the 
case  upon  purely  subjective  grounds ; and  thus  crushed  the  rising 
efforts  of  scepticism  under  the  more  potent  arms  of  idealism. 
From  that  time  idealism  has  been  the  national  philosophy  of  Ger- 
many, without  allowing  a rival  to  appear  in  the  field. 

The  result  of  this  chapter  may  be  concentrated  in  one  sentence. 
With  few  exceptions,  the  chief  scepticism  of  England  is,  that  of 
authority  ; the  chief  scepticism  of  France,  that  of  ignorance ; the 
chief  scepticism  of  Germany,  that  of  an  absolute  kind,  which  bases 
itself  upon  the  denial  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  human  nature. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  MODERN  MYSTICISM, 


Sect.  I. — Modern  Mysticism  generally ; — In  England, 

We  have  now,  at  some  length,  traced  the  course  which  three  of 
the  great  generic  systems  of  philosophy  have  taken  during  the 
present  century.  We  have  seen  the  efforts  which  sensationalism 
has  made  to  analyze  all  the  materials  of  human  knowledge,  and 
deduce  the  primary  elements  of  which  it  is  composed : and,  even 
while  pointing  out  its  many  errors  and  defects,  we  have  acknowl- 
edged the  fruitful  results,  which  its  close  investigation  of  our  sense- 
perceptions  has  ever  produced.  Next,  we  have  marked  the  deeper 
channel  in  which  idealism  has  flowed,  and  observed  its  tendency 
to  become  lost  in  a sea  of  interminable  speculation  upon  subjects, 
which  no  sounding-line  of  human  construction  can  ever  fathom. 
Both  the  systems  admit,  that  truth  can  be  discovered  by  man’s 
natural  faculties,  only  the  former  allows  no  source  of  ideas  to  be 
possible  except  the  senses,  while  the  latter  contends  for  another 
and  a profounder  source,  which  has  its  seat  in  the  very  depths  of 
man’s  intellectual  nature.  Thirdly,  we  have  noticed  and  weighed 
the  efforts  of  scepticism  to  undermine  the  whole  foundation  of 
truth,  and  bring  us  to  the  comfortless  conclusion  that  our  highest 
knowledge  is  to  perceive,  that  we  know  nothing.  The  fourth 
generic  system  yet  remains — that  which,  refusing  to  admit  that  we 
can  gain  truth  with  absolute  certainty  either  from  sense  or  reason, 
points  us  to  faith,  feeling,  or  inspiration,  as  its  only  valid  source. 
This  we  term  mysticism. 

As  the  two  former  systems  are  those  around  which  metaphysical 
speculation  and  inquiry  for  the  most  part  gather,  scepticism  and 
mysticism  have  ever  played  a somewhat  subordinate  part  in  the 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND.  • 557 

history  of  philosophy.  Instead  of  being  the  spontaneous  produc- 
tion of  the  human  mind,  they  have  generally  arisen  from  the  errors 
and  extravagancies  of  other  attempts.  Scepticism,  for  instance, 
may  be  regarded  as  a kind  of  corrective  process  to  prevent  the  erec- 
tion of  a philosophical  superstructure  upon  an  insecure  foundation. 
The  precise  office  which  mysticism  has  performed  in  the  progress 
of  human  knowledge,  is  that  of  discovering  and  asserting  the  worth 
of  our  higher  feelings,  whether  they  be  instinctive,  moral,  or  re- 
ligious ; for  there  is  great  danger  both  in  the  case  of  the  sensation- 
alist and  the  idealist,  lest,  devoted,  the  one  to  the  analysis  of  sense, 
the  other  of  reason,  they  should  overlook  those  sensibilities  of  our 
nature,  which  often  speak  the  language  of  truth  as  certainly,  if  not 
as  clearly,  as  reason  itself.  In  this  case,  the  voice  of  mysticism 
warns  them  of  their  error ; it  tells  them  that  there  is  a source  of 
truth  which  they  have  both  left  unnoticed,  and  which  often  avails, 
even  when  nothing  else  perhaps  can,  to  direct  reason  into  the  right 
path  of  investigation. 

To  elucidate  the  origin  and  nature  of  mysticism,  we  must  glance 
for  a moment  at  the  connection  which  subsists  between  the  intel- 
lect and  the  emotions  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind.  Man 
may  he  said  to  have  been  created  for  two  purposes,  to  know  and  to 
do.  We  can  conceive  of  a mind  utterly  passionless,  gazing  with 
piercing  transparency  of  vision  upon  truth ; but  yet  unimpelled  by 
motives  to  any  sphere  of  action  whatever.  A being  thus  formed 
might  possess  the  most  commanding  intellect,  but  it  would  never 
be  fitted  to  fulfil  any  destiny.  To  rouse  a mind  to  action  there 
must  be  feelings,  emotions,  desires,  passions : by  their  means  alone 
it  is  that  it  begins  to  exert  its  influence  upon  things  around,  and, 
stepping  forth  from  the  sphere  of  its  silent  contemplation,  to  live 
for  a purpose  as  it  regards  the  universe  at  large.  The  intellectual 
and  the  practical  side  of  humanity,  however,  are  not  severed  en- 
tirely from  each  other.  Our  emotions  spring  forth,  in  some  mys- 
terious manner,  from  our  ideas  or  conceptions ; so  that  what  the 
intellectual  force  pictures  to  the  mind  as  truth,  the  emotive  force 
reduces  to  feeling  or  impulse,  and  by  that  means  at  length  to  action. 
These  explanations  are  by  no  means  novel ; they  are  laws  or  prin- 
ciples of  our  nature  which  many  have  already  observed,  many 
described ; in  the  department  of  ethics,  especially,  the  dependence 
of  our  moral  feelings  upon  the  conceptions  of  right  and  wrong 
which  precede  them,  have  been  repeatedly  asserted  and  illustrated 
by  the  advocates  of  the  intellectual  theory. 


558 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


It  may  be  found,  however,  upon  a closer  investigation,  that  these 
two  departments  of  our  mental  constitution  run  more  parallel  with 
each  other  than  has  been  generally  supposed.  M.  Cousin,  in  one 
of  his  lectures  on  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good,  has  hinted 
at  this  parallelism  ; but  not  having  carried  out  the  idea  to  any  great 
extent,  he  has  left  the  subject  fully  open  to  future  research,  so  that 
we  need  no  apology  for  offering  one  or  two  additional  thoughts 
upon  it. 

In  examining,  then,  the  phenomena  of  intelligence,  we  see  a 
gradual  progression  from  bare  sensibility  (the  lowest  intellectual 
process)  to  the  very  highest  efforts  of  reason.  We  may  easily  de- 
tect the  process  in  its  various  steps,  if  we  imagine  to  ourselves  an 
infant  mind  in  its  progressive  development  to  maturity.  That 
mind  begins  by  experiencing  a sensation;  and  this  sensation  brings 
with  it  the  first  gleam  of  knowledge,  for  it  announces  the  existence 
of  some  phenomenon,  though,  of  course,  it  says  nothing  respecting 
the  origin  or  the  natui'e  of  it.  Next,  after  sensation,  comes  percep- 
tion. Here  a primitive  judgment  is  exercised,  by  which  the  phe- 
nomena of  sensation  ai'e  all  referred  to  a cause  without  us,  to  an 
objective  world. 

Thus  far,  indeed,  the  life  of  man  and  of  the  brute  creation  run 
completely  parallel.  The  infant  mind,  however,  expands  still  fur- 
ther. Having  made  itself  acquainted  with  the  external  world,  in 
its  various  forms,  it  begins  to  compare,  to  generalize,  to  combine  ; 
it  observes  qualities,  and  abstracts  them ; it  indicates  things  by 
signs,  and  forms  language ; in  a word,  it  shows  all  the  marks  of 
understanding,  as  we  see  it  exercised  in  the  various  engagements 
of  our  outward  life.  Of  this  faculty,  the  brute  shows  but  a feeble 
glimmering ; just  sufficient,  however,  to  indicate  the  possession  of 
it  to  a slight  degree.  But  understanding  is  not  all ; the  mind,  thus 
far  expanded,  begins  to  look  beyond  the  w'orld  of  phenomena  into 
that  of  realities  ; it  oversteps  the  region  of  sensible  into  that  of  spir- 
itual things  ; thoughts  of  God  and  of  immortality  occupy  its  deepest 
moments,  until  it  rises  to  the  loftiest  attainments  of  human  knowl- 
edge, and  longs  for  the  revelation  of  a brighter  world.  This  fac- 
ulty, it  is  almost  needless  to  remark,  is  reason — the  great  preroga- 
tive of  man  alone. 

Now,  to  each  one  of  these  different  gradations  of  intelligence, 
we  may  see  that  certain  gradations  of  sensibility  precisely  answer. 
To  sensation  on  the  intellectual  side,  answers  instinct  on  the  prac- 
tical. These  two,  in  fact,  form  the  lowest  step  of  both,  that  in 


MVSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


559 


which  they  seem  altogether  to  unite ; for  instinct  is,  as  it  were,  an 
impulsive  or  practical  sensation.  To  our  perceptions,  again,  per- 
fectly answer  the  lower  desires  and  passions  ; those,  I mean,  which 
are  shared  alike  by  the  man  and  the  brute,  and  which  arise  from 
the  nature  of  our  physical  constitution.  The  understanding  to 
which  we  next  attain,  is  the  region  of  relations — that  in  which  all 
the  objects  of  the  visible  world  are  classified  and  arranged  for  log- 
ical use.  Corresponding  to  this  faculty  we  have  the  relational 
emotions,  those  which  arise  from  the  connections  in  which  we 
stand  to  our  family,  our  friends,  our  country,  and  to  human  life  at 
large.  So  far,  man  is  not  strictly  an  aesthetic,  a moral,  or  a religious 
being ; he  has  not  yet  transcended  the  region  of  sensible  things, 
into  the  higher  and  more  spiritual  regions  of  thought  and  feeling. 
Reason  conducts  us  into  this  higher  world ; it  unfolds  to  us  the  ex- 
istence of  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  good ; and  corresponding  to 
these  as  objects  of  contemplation,  we  have  the  aesthetic,  the  moral, 
and  the  religious  emotions.  Finally,  just  as  the  intellectual  and 
practical  life  first  start  from  one  indefinable  ground,  where  sense 
and  instinct  combine,  so  also  do  they  terminate  in  one  common 
elevation,  where  reason  and  the  loftier  sensibility  blend  together. 
This  highest  region  of  mental  development  is  faith,  the  basis  of  all 
philosophy,  whether  it  be  sensational,  mystical,  or  ideal.  We  may 
present  these  correlates  to  the  eye  in  the  following  scheme : — 


MAN  S LIFE  IS 

I.  Intellectual,  II.  Practical 

FEELING 

comprehending  , * , comprehending 

a.  Sensation,  ‘ to  which  answer  Instincts. 

b.  Perception,  .........  Passions. 

c.  Understanding, Relational  Emotions. 

d.  Reason, .dSsthetic,  Moral,  and 

'■ ' Religious  Emotions. 

FAITH. 


Now  in  every  one  of  the  above  gradations  the  intellectual  stat«, 
chronologically  precedes  the  emotional,  and  is  that  from  which  the 
correlate  emanates.  Naturalists,  for  example,  tell  us  that  the  re- 
markable impulse  termed  instinct  arises  from  some  sensation  which 
is  experienced  by  the  animal  in  some  portion  or  other  of  the  bodily 
frame.  When  our  passions  again  are  roused,  there  is  always  some 
object  from  the  perception  of  which  those  passions  appear  to  orig- 
inate. Further,  the  understanding  must  come  into  play,  and  give 
us  a due  conception  of  the  various  relations  in  life,  before  the  re- 


560 


MODERN  PlilLOSOrHY. 


Jational  emotions  are  excited.  And,  lastly,  reason,  at  least  in  its 
spontaneous  action,  must  unfold  to  us  the  beautiful,  the  good,  the 
Divine,  ere  tlie  higher  affections  are  developed.  This  has  been  re- 
peatedly acknowledged,  both  in  morals  and  theology.  There  must 
be  first  the  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  and  then  the  contemplation 
of  some  action,  to  which  merit  or  demerit  is  attached,  before  any 
feeling  of  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation  can  be  evinced.  In 
the  same  way  our  religious  affections  spring  from  our  religious 
ideas,  and,  just  according  to  our  conceptions  of  God,  their  great 
object,  will  be  the  feelings  we  exercise  in  worship  towards  him.  As 
a whole,  therefore,  the  intellectual  man  must  be  said  to  guide  the 
practical  man,  the  groundwork  of  all  our  emotions  being  found  in 
our  conceptions. 

Such,  however,  cannot  be  said  to  be  entirely  and  exclusively  the 
case ; for  these  emotions,  when  once  excited,  react  in  their  turn 
upon  the  intellect.  They  invest  its  ideas  with  new  lustre  and 
beauty : they  add  intensity  to  all  its  operations  ; and  by  their  nat- 
ural tendencies  they  often  direct  it  in  its  researches  after  fresh 
truths.  The  result  is,  that  in  estimating  the  human  mind  as  a 
whole,  and  giving  their  proper  place  to  all  the  phenomena  of  its 
conscious  existence,  due  stress  must  be  laid  both  upon  the  intel- 
lectual and  the  emotional  element ; if  either  side  be  left  unappre- 
ciated, error  will  be  the  sure  result. 

Now  the  sensationalist  and  the  idealist  both  neglect,  to  a great 
degree,  the  emotional  element  contained  in  our  nature.  The 
former,  more  frequently  than  not,  confounds  emotion  altogether 
with  sensation,  making  them  both  but  different  modifications  of 
the  same  power ; while  the  latter  too  commonly  confines  himself 
simply  to  the  analysis  of  reason,  neglecting  the  reflex  influence 
which  the  emotions  exert  upon  it.  On  the  contrary,  the  mystic 
goes  exactly  into  the  opposite  excess.  To  him  the  emotions  of 
the  human  mind  are  regarded  as  supreme ; so  that,  instead  of  al- 
lowing the  intellectual  faculty  to  lead  the  way,  it  is  degraded  to  an 
inferior  position,  and  made  entirely  subservient  to  the  feelings. 
Reason  is  in  that  case  no  longer  viewed  as  the  great  organ  of 
truth ; its  decisions  are  enstamped  as  uncertain,  faulty,  and  well 
nigh  valueless ; while  the  inward  impulses  of  our  sensibility,  de- 
veloping themselves  in  the  form  of  faith  or  of  inspiration,  are  held 
up  as  the  true  and  infallible  source  of  human  knowledge.  The 
fundamental  process,  therefore,  of  all  mysticism,  is  to  reverse  the 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


5G1 


true  order  of  nature,  and  give  the  precedence  to  the  emotional  in- 
stead of  the  intellectual  element  of  the  human  mind. 

This,  then,  being  the  common  ground  of  all  mysticism,  we  have 
next  to  seek  after  the  various  forms  which  it  assumes,  and  to  make 
out  as  far  as  possible  some  classification  of  them.  Cousin,  in  the 
lectures  to  which  we  before  referred,  has  given  a twofold  classifi- 
cation of  the  different  mysticisms  grounded  upon  the  two  funda- 
mental ideas,  or  categories,  which  lie  at  the  basis  of  all  human 
knowledge  ; those,  namely,  of  the  finite  and  the  infinite,  of  the  rel- 
ative and  the.  absolute,  of  phenomena  and  substance.  Phenomenal 
mysticism  with  him  is  that  which  actually  transfers  the  phenomena 
of  our  inner  self  into  the  natural  world,  giving  rise,  first,  to  pagan- 
ism, or  the  deification  of  nature,  and  then,  as  a natural  conse- 
quencS,  to  invocation,  evocation,  and  theurgy.  Substantial  mys- 
ticism is  that  which  imagines  the  infinite  being  to  reveal  himself 
immediately  to  the  feelings  of  the  human  soul,  giving  rise  to  those 
extraordinary  attempts  (for  which  some  have  been  celebrated)  at 
sinking  down,  in  their  inward  contemplation,  beneath  the  veil  of 
mere  phenomena,  and  gazing  face  to  face  upon  God.  In  this  clas- 
sification there  is  unquestionably  much  truth  and  much  ingenuity  ; 
as  it  is,  however,  too  recondite  and  too  subjective  for  our  present 
purpose,  we  shall  attempt  another,  which  may  better  answer  the 
purpose  we  have  before  us,  that,  namely,  of  describing  the  history 
of  philosophy  from  a more  objective  point  of  view.  We  divide 
the  various  species  of  mysticism,  then,  into  three  classes.  It 
arises — 

I.  When  truth  is  supposed  to  be  gained  in  pursuance  of  some 
regular  law  or  fact  of  our  inward  sensibility ; this  may  be  vari- 
ously termed  a mode  of  faith,  or  of  intuition.* 

II.  When  truth  is  supposed  to  be  gained  by  a fixed  supernatural 
channel. 

III.  When  truth  is  supposed  to  be  gained  by  extraordinary  su- 
pernatural means. 

W e do  not  assert,  that  any  one  of  these  suppositions  is  absolutely 
and  uniformly  incorrect ; nay,  we  are  far  from  denying  that  knowl- 
edge cannot  be  communicated  by  all  three  of  these  methods  to  the 
human  mind.  The  mysticism  which  attaches  itself  to  such  viev/s 

♦ Faith,  or  the  direct  intuitive  reception  of  primary  truth,  we  have  shown  to  be  in 
fact  the  necessary  basis  of  all  fundamental  philosophy,  the  point  in  which  the  higher 
faculties  and  sensibilities  meet.  Faith,  however,  may  partake  predominantly  of  the 
rational,  or  of  the  emotional  element.  In  the  former  instance,  it  must  be  regarded  as, 
the  foundation  of  the  ideal ; in  the  latter,  of  the  mystical  philosophies.  ^ 

36 


562 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


lies  in  the  belief,  that  some  one  of  these  three  is  the  great,  if  not 
the  sole  channel  by  which  we  have  to  gain  infallible  truth.  The 
former,  it  will  be  seen,  is  excellence  a philosophical  mysticism, 
the  two  latter  partake  more  largely  of  the  element  of  religious 
mysticism. 

I.  We  begin,  then,  with  the  first  of  these  three  modes  of  mysti- 
cism, that  which  supposes  truth  to  be  gained  in  pursuance  of  some 
regular  law  or  fact  of  our  inward  sensibility.  Here,  of  course,  as 
in  all  philosophical  systems,  there  is  to  be  noted  a progressive  ad- 
vancement from  the  milder  to  the  more  intense  form,  in  which  it 
makes  its  appearance  to  the  world.  The  first  step  in  the  develop- 
ment of  a new  metaphysical  school  is  often  so  insignificant,  that 
we  can  scarcely  perceive  in  what  it  really  differs  from  those  al- 
ready in  existence ; just  as  the  first  deviation  of  two  line^which 
form  an  extremely  acute  angle  can  hardly  be  observed,  while  in 
their  progress  they  soon  become  widely  separated.  Such  is  pre- 
cisely the  case  with  respect  to  the  point,  in  which  idealism  and 
mysticism  first  commence  to  diverge  from  each  other.  The  former 
accepts  reason  as  the  organ  of  truth,  the  latter  faith ; but  reason 
and  faith,  however  they  may  stand  apart  as  distinct  prenornena 
in  their  ordinary  acceptation,  yet  in  their  higher  acceptation  blend 
together  like  the  colors  of  the  spectrum,  without  our  being  able  to 
say  where  the  one  ceases  and  the  other  begins. 

Now  the  writer,  whose  works  fill  exactly  this  angle  of  our  philo- 
sophical literature,  is  Coleridge.  Our  literary  periodicals  and  re- 
views have  teemed,  for  the  last  twenty  years,  with  articles  or  ob- 
servations upon  the  genius,  the  style,  and  the  opinions  of  this  our 
great  poet-philosopher.  To  record  anything  here  respecting  his 
life  and  character,  would  be  to  repeat  what  almost  every  one  al- 
ready knows.  His  dreamy  youth,  his  opening  manhood,  his  colle- 
giate life  in  Cambridge  and  in  Germany,  his  wdld  purposes  only 
created  to  fade  away,  his  lecturings,  his  writings,  his  marvellous 
conversations,  all  have  formed  the  topics  of  many  a page  and 
many  a reminiscence.  Waiving,  therefore,  all  further  allusion  to 
these  subjects,  we  shall  now  merely  attempt  rightly  to  estimate 
and  determine  the  place  which  Coleridge  holds  on  the  philosophi- 
cal stage  of  our  country. 

The  philosophy  which  Coleridge  was  first  taught  must  have 
been  the  sensationalism  of  Locke,  as  adapted  to  the  wants  and 
contingencies  of  modern  times.  The  moral  philosophy  he  heard 
at  Cambridge,  if  indeed  he  ever  attended  it,  was  that  of  Paley  ; 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


563 


and  strange  must  it  have  seemed*to  his  profound  and  earnest  spirit, 
then  beginning  to  dive  into  the  deeper  world  of  speculation,  to 
hear  an  unpoetical  utilitarianism  delivered  from  the  post  of  instruc- 
tion in  that  venerable  university,  where  once  Cudworth  and  More 
poured  forth  all  the  richness  of  their  Christianized  Platonism.  No 
wonder  that  he  craved  after  the  more  congenial  minds  of  Ger- 
many ; of  Germany  with  its  mystery,  with  its  poetry  of  life,  with 
its  spiritual  philosophy : and  no  wonder  that  the  literature  of  that 
country,  when  he  once  knew  it,  exerted  a mighty  influence  upon 
him  through  the  rest  of  his  life — an  influence  which  shows  with 
what  eagerness  he  gazed  upon  the  new  world  of  thought  and  of 
feeling,  which  was  there  opened  to  his  wonder  and  delight. 

Having  mastered  the  principles  of  Kant,  and  looked  into  those 
of  Fichte,  Coleridge  returned  home  with  his  predispositions  to  the 
higher  metaphysics  at  once  fixed  and  directed.  Had  he  been 
brought  up  amongst  the  metaphysicians  of  Germany  he  would  un- 
doubtedly have  been  a German  idealist  of  the  true  stamp  ; as  it 
was,  however,  the  commingling  of  his  early  education  with  the 
idealism  of  Kant  and  Fichte  gave  to  his  mind  a tinge  of  mysti- 
cism, which  was  only  heightened  by  his  passionate  love  of  poetry 
and  aesthetics.  To  comprehend,  then,  the  exact  nature  of  this 
mysticism,  (which  is  the  precise  object  we  have  now  in  view,)  we 
must  first  attempt  to  grasp  some  of  the  grand  metaphysical  princi- 
ples, which  our  author  labored  to  establish. 

Man  is  viewed  by  Coleridge  as  possessing  (besides  some  minor 
ones)  four  great  and  fundamental  faculties  ; — sensation,  under- 
standing, reason,  and  will.  With  regard  to  sensation,  we  find 
nothing  in  his  writings  that  can  be  considered  of  any  importance. 
The  reality  of  our  sense-perceptions  was  antecedently  admitted  by 
him,  just  as  they  were  by  Locke,  Kant,  and  most  others ; in  no 
case  that  I am  aware  of,  did  he  venture  upon  any  transcendental 
theory  to  account  for  these  phenomena,  or  dive  so  far  into  the 
spirit  of  idealism,  as  to  deny  their  objective  validity.  In  proceed- 
ing, however,  from  sensation  to  understanding  and  reason,  we  soon 
get  at  one  of  the  main  points  of  Coleridge’s  metaphysical  opinions. 
The  distinction  drawn  between  the  Verstand  and  the  Vernunft,  in 
the  philosophy  of  Kant,  has  been  already  explained  at  some  length. 
Coleridge  seized  this  distinction  with  great  clearness,  and,  having 
done  so,  preached,  defended,  and  illustrated  it,  with  all  the  ardor 
of  his  profound  and  philosophic  mind.  The  one  he  terms  reason- 
ing hy  sense ; the  other,  reasoning  beyond  sense.  The  one  is  con- 


564 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


fined  (0  the  objects  and  relations*of  the  outward  world  ; the  other, 
to  those  of  the  spiritual  world  — the  one  relates  to  the  forms,  under 
which  we  view  the  finite  and  contingent ; the  other  relates  to  the 
forms,  under  which  we  image  to  ourselves  the  infinite,  the  absolute, 
the  eternal.  This  distinction,  to  which  we  have  already  so  often 
referred,  unquestionably  underlies  a very  large  proportion  of  Cole- 
ridge’s philosophical  theories.  I will  simply  recall  one  passage 
from  “ The  Friend,”  (vol.  iii.  p.  202,)  as  an  example  of  this  pecul- 
iar feature  of  his  writings.  Speaking  of  the  idea  of  pure  being, 
he  says — “ The  power  which  evolved  this  idea  of  being, — being  in 
its  essence,  being  limitless, — how  shall  we  name  it  ? The  idea 
itself,  which,  like  a mighty  billow,  at  once  overwhelms  and  bears 
aloft,  what  is  it  ? Whence  did  it  come  ? In  vain  would  we  derive 
it  from  the  organs  of  sense ; for  these  supply  only  surfaces,  undu- 
lations, and  phantoms  ! In  vain  from  the  instruments  of  sensa- 
tion ; for  these  furnish  only  the  chaos,  the  shapeless  elements  of 
sense.  And  least  of  all  may  we  hope  to  find  its  origin  or  sufficient 
cause  in  the  moulds  and  mechanism  of  the  understanding ; .the 
whole  purport  and  functions  of  which  consist  in  individualization, 
in  outlines,  and  differencings,  by  quantity,  quality,  and  relation. 
It  were  wiser  to  seek  substance  in  shadow,  than  absolute  fulness  in 
mere  negation.”  * * * After  showing  that  the  idea  of  pure  being 
is,  notwithstanding  all  this,  a real  one,  borne  witness  to  by  the 
clearest  light  of  our  inward  nature,  he  adds — “ By  what  name, 
then,  canst  thou  call  a truth  so  manifested  ? Is  it  not  a revelation  ? 
And  the  manifesting  power,  the  source  and  the  correlative  of  the 
idea  thus  manifested,  is  it  not  God  ?”  How  is  it  possible  to  show 
more  clearly  than  this,  the  blending  of  our  higher  reason  and  intel- 
lectual sensibility  in  the  one  supreme  principle  of  faith,  as  the  or- 
gan of  all  primitive  and  fundamental  truth  ? 

Our  author,  however,  has  not  only  imitated  Kant  in  reference 
to  the  general  distinction  between  understanding  and  reason,  but 
has  also  accepted  this  twofold  division  of  reason  itself  into  the 
theoretical  and  the  practical.  The  one  is  reason,  as  applied  to  the 
comprehension  of  truth ; the  other  is  reason,  as  applied  to  the  reg- 
ulation of  actions.  Pure  reason  tells  us  what  is  necessary  and 
real  in  existence ; practical  reason  tells  us  what  is  incumbent  upon 
us  as  moral  agents.  The  one  has  to  do  simply  with  the  intellec- 
tual man  ; the  other  has  to  do  with  the  will.  All  the  moral  philos- 
ophy, we  believe,  which  the  writings  of  Coleridge  contain,  ulti- 
mately rests  upon  the  validity  and  the  authority  of  the  practical 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


565 


reason,  as  a categoric  imperative,  an  indisputable  law,  formed  to 
regulate  and  control  hurnan  life. 

The  part  of  our  constitution,  however,  which  Coleridge  dwells 
upon  with  the  greatest  delight,  is  the  will.  It  had  been  the  effort 
of  sensationalism  to  identify  volition  with  pathological  and  sensa- 
tional phenomena ; that  is,  to  sink  the  personality  of  the  human 
will  in  feelings  arising  from  our  nervous  sensibility.  Coleridge  had 
drunk  deep  enough  into  the  subjective  spirit  of  Kant’s  philosophy, 
to  see  the  complete  futility  of  all  such  attempts  : he  learned  there 
to  look  with  an  almost  piercing  intensity  of  vision  into  the  native 
constitution  of  the  mind,  the  original  power  of  the  me  ; and  applying 
this  keen  perception  to  the  practical  side  of  our  humanity,  he  recog- 
nized in  every  man  a will,  a spiritual  force  (entirely  distinct  from 
his  animal  nature)  given  to  him  by  God,  to  regulate  his  higher  life. 
This  will,  accordingly,  he  regarded  as  the  source  of  moral  obliga- 
tion, the  germ  of  our  religious  being,  the  link  by  which  our  earthly 
nature  is  united  to  those  higher  natures,  which  evince  a pure  spon- 
taneity for  eternal  holiness  and  love.  These  elements,  therefore — 
the  understanding,  the  reason,  and  the  will — form  the  basis  of  Cole- 
ridge’s metaphysical  speculations.  The  view  which  he  tak^s  of 
them,  though  strongly  marked,  yet  is  by  no  means  original ; the 
counterpart  of  almost  all  his  notions  on  these  subjects,  is  to  be 
found  somewhere  or  other  among  the  German  idealistic  writers — 
the  greater  part  of  them  in  the  philosophy  of  Kant. 

So  far,  then,  Coleridge  is  to  be  reckoned  properly  as  idealistic  in 
his  tendency  ; and  had  he  stopped  here,  must  have  been  classed  as 
one  of  that  school.  Having  carried  on  his  investigations,  how- 
ever, up  to  this  point,  he  proceeds  to  construct,  out  of  the  elements 
above  mentioned,  a new  organ  of  truth,  termed  faith,  by  means 
of  which  a fresh  light,  unattainable  by  reason  alone,  is  shed  over 
the  whole  mind.  Reason,  according  to  Coleridge,  blends  with  the 
will : in  other  words,  the  faculty  by  which  we  gaze  upon  absolute 
truth,  unites  with  that  by  which  we  are  conscious  of  our  own  per- 
sonality ; and  from  hence  originates  a new  insight  into  the  secrets 
of  man’s  destiny  both  in  time  and  eternity.  “ Faith,”  to  use  his 
own  words,  “ consists  in  the  synthesis  of  the  reason  and  the  indi- 
vidual will.  By  virtue  of  the  latter,  therefore,  it  must  be  an 
energy  ; and,  inasmuch  as  it  relates  to  the  whole  man,  it  must  be 
exerted  in  each  and  all  of  his  constituents,  or  incidents,  faculties, 
and  tendencies  : it  must  be  a total,  not  a partial — a continuous,  not 
a desultory  or  occasional  energy.  And  by  virtue  of  the  former 


566 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


(that  is,  reason),  faith  must  be  a light — ^a  form  of  knowing — a be- 
holding of  truth.  In  the  incomparable  words  of  the  Evangelist, 
therefore,  faith  must  be  a light,  originating  in  the  Logos,  or  the 
substantial  reason,  which  is  co-eternal  and  one  with  the  holy  will, 
and  which  light  is  at  the  same  time  the  life  of  men.” 

From  this  passage  it  is  evident,  that  the  faith  element  enters  de- 
cidedly into  the  higher  branches  of  Coleridge’s  metaphysical  sys- 
tem ; that  truths  are  supposed  to  be  conveyed  to  us  by  its  means, 
which  could  not  come  solely  through  the  understanding  or  the  rea 
son,  and  that  there  is  a mixture  of  mysticism,  therefore,  with  his 
idealistic  principles,  showing  itself  particularly  in  the  application 
of  his  philosophy  to  religion.  At  the  same  time,  faith,  as  viewed 
by  Coleridge,  is  not  a distinct  and  independent  faculty;  but  the 
blending  of  the  higher  faculties  in  one ; so  that  his  m3’’sticism  is  of  a 
kind  which  stands  on  the  very  verge  of  idealism,  not  daring  to  ven- 
ture without  the  sight  of  the  reason,  nor  choosing  to  trust  itself  to 
the  uncontrolled  suggestions  of  faith  or  of  feeling. 

The  extraordinary  value  of  Coleridge’s  writings,  we  think,  must 
be  fully  admitted  by  every  impartial  mind.  They  form  the  first 
successful  attempt  of  modern  times,  in  our  own  country,  to  ground 
any  of  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity  upon  a philosophical 
basis,  without  at  the  same  time  detracting  aught  from  their  pecul- 
iarly evangelical  character.  Added  to  this,  they  open  a sphere  of 
metaphysical  thinking  well  adapted  to  counteract  the  objective 
tendency  of  our  national  philosophy,  and  to  direct  the  mind  to 
those  lofty  views  respecting  human  nature  and  human  destiny, 
which,  in  the  turmoil  of  our  practical  life,  and  in  the  want  of  a 
more  spiritual  system,  we  are  so  inclined  to  forget. 

To  estimate  the  mind  of  Coleridge  philosophically,  we  should 
say,  that  most  of  his  opinions  and  tendencies  arise  from  the  pre- 
dominance which  the  ideas  of  self  and  God  ever  held  in  his  intel- 
lectual being.  The  former  idea  led  him  to  the  deep  investigation 
of  the  intellectual  faculties,  and  the  will ; the  latter  led  him  to 
apply  his  metaphysical  principles  to  the  truths  of  religion.  When, 
therefore,  he  found  that  the  objects  of  religious  contemplation 
transcended  the  powers  of  his  rational  nature  to  comprehend,  im- 
mediately he  sought  to  bring  in  the  aid  of  his  moral  nature,  and  to 
construct  out  of  the  reason  and  will  combined,  another  faculty, 
w'hich  should  be  adapted  to  the  perception  of  these  sublime  truths. 
In  so  far  as  he  has  attributed  to  this  new  power  of  faith  a super- 
rational  capacity,  must  Coleridge  be  termed  a mystic  ; but  his  rnys- 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


567 


ticism,  religiously  speaking,  only  consists  in  attempting  to  explain 
by  these  means  the  scriptural  doctrines  which  most  men  receive, 
simply  upon  the  authority  of  inspiration.  The  influence  of  Cole- 
ridge upon  the  age  has  been,  and  still  is,  more  extensive  than  many 
imagine.  His  works  form  just  the  turning  point  in  the  philosophi- 
cal history  of  our  country,  in  which  the  advancement  of  sensa- 
tionalism came  to  a stand,  and  the  tide  of  spiritualism  began  to 
return.  That  tide  has  since  continued  to  deepen  and  increase, 
and  we  anticipate  ere  long  the  time,  when  England  shall  again 
boast  a philosophy  which  is  worthy  the  name,  and  take  its  stand 
with  France  and  Germany,  as  partner  in  the  furthei  development 
of  abstract  truth.* 

Another  somewhat  remarkable  development  of  philosophical 
mysticism  appears  in  the  works  of  Thomas  Taylor,  the  learned 
translator  of  Plato.  This,  we  should  say,  is  chiefly  remarkable  as 
being  a complete  revival  of  the  ancient  Platonism — a fresh  estab- 
lishment of  it  amidst  the  varied  systems  of  modern  times.  The 
power  of  gazing  upon  the  pure  forms  of  all  existence — of  seeing 
the  archetypes  of  all  creation,  reposing  in  the  mind  of  Deity,  we 
must  regal'd  as  being  a kind  of  intellectual  intuition,  sufficiently 
distinct  from  reason  to  warrant  the  appellation  of  mysticism  rather 
than  idealism,  as  distinctive  of  the  system.  The  Platonic  point  of 
view  we  regard,  indeed,  as  one  step  in  advance  of  Coleridge : it 
not  only  advocates  that  kind  of  immediate  intuition  of  truth — that 
gazing  upon  pure  ideas,  which  Coleridge  admitted ; but  it  denies 
the  possibility  of  rising  to  this  lofty  contemplation,  while  the  mind 
is  debased  by  the  perpetual  contact  of  material  things.  Listen  to 
Mr.  Taylor’s  reflections  upon  this  point — “ The  conceptions  of 
the  experimental  philosopher,  who  expects  to  find  truth  in  the  laby- 
rinths of  matter,  are  not  much  more  elevated  than  those  of  the 
vulgar ; for  he  is  ignorant  that  truth  is  the  most  splendid  of  all 
things ; that  she  is  the  constant  companion  of  the  divinity,  and 
proceeds  together  with  him  through  the  universe  ; that  the  shining 
traces  of  her  feet  are  conspicuous  only  in  form  ; and  that  in  the 
dark  windings  of  matter  she  left  nothing  but  a most  obscure  and 
fleeting  resemblance  of  herself  This  delusive  phantom,  however, 
the  man  of  modern  science  ardently  explores,  unconscious  that  he 
is  running  in  profound  darkness  and  infinite  perplexity,  and  that  he 

* The  student  of  Coleridge,  as  a philosopher,  should  first  peruse  the  “ Biographia 
Literaria,”  from  thence  he  may  proceed  to  ponder  over  the  “ Aids  to  Reflexion.”  Next 
he  may  make  acquaintance  with  “ The  Friend  and  not  forget,  at  last,  those  few 
suggestive  pages,  which  purport  to  be  the  '•  Confessions  of  an  Enquiring  Spirit.” 


568 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


is  hastening  after  an  object,  which  eludes  all  detection  and  mocks 
all  pursuit.’" 

Coleridge  would  scarcely  have  proceeded  to  this  extent.  He 
would  have  asserted  the  combination  of  our  best  faculties  into  one 
supreme  faith-principle,  by  which  truth  could  be  immediately  con- 
veyed to  the  mind ; but  he  would  not  have  insisted  upon  the  re.- 
nunciation  of  physical  investigation,  and  the  absorption  of  the 
mind  in  Deity,  as  the  only  method  of  rising  to  the  heights  of  true 
science.  It  is  through  advancing  such  opinions,  that  the  name  of 
Plato,  even  to  the  present  day,  stands  on  the  threshold  of  almost 
every  system  of  mystical  philosophy. 

The  most  remarkable  phase,  however,  of  this  school  of  mysticism 
has  been  realized  in  the  notions  of  James  Pieerepont  Greaves, 
the  friend,  and  for  some  time  the  coadjutor,  of  Pestalozzi.  Mr. 
Greaves  was  born  near  London,  in  1777,  and  educated  to  mercan- 
tile life.  On  meeting  with  some  reverses  in  business,  he  went  to 
the  Continent,  and  spent  some  time  at  Heidelberg,  where  he 
gathered  many  of  the  rising  literati  around  him,  and  first  began  to 
open  his  new  and  strange  opinions.  From  thence  he  M'ent.to 
Switzerland,  and  lived  ten  years  with  Pestalozzi,  engaging  ardently 
with  him  in  the  work  of  infant  tuition,  and  maturing  still  further 
his  spirit-philosophy.  On  his  return  to  England,  he  devoted  him- 
self to  the  improvement  of  popular  education,  and  to  spreading  the 
views  he  had  formed  among  his  fellow-men.  He  died  in  the  year 
1844,  beloved  by  many,  and  admired  by  a few. 

To  gain  a clear  conception  of  Mr.  Greaves’  philosophy,  is  a mat- 
ter of  no  ordinary  difficulty ; and  still  more  difficult  is  it  to  explain 
it.  The  idea  which  lay  at  the  basis  of  all  his  thoughts,  seems  to 
be  the  ^periority  of  being  to  all  knowing  and  doing.  He  consid- 
ered that  the  great  evil  in  life  was  selfishness,  i,  e.,  the  regard  to 
individual  instead  of  general  being ; that  before  any  improvement 
could  be  made,  the  inner  man  must  be  appealed  to,  and  united  with 
the  love-spirit — the  eternal  and  divine  nature.  His  philosophy 
was,  in  fact,  a species  of  spiritual  socialism,  in  which  all  human 
natures  were  to  be  united  and  harmonized  by  the  perfect  submis- 
sion of  every  soul  to  the  law  of  love,  and  the  passive  yielding 
itself  to  the  impulse  of  the  spirit. 

A memoir  of  Mr.  Greaves  has  been  written  by  Mr.  A.  F.  Bar- 
ham,* one  of  his  friends  and  admirers,  as  an  introduction  to  a vol- 

♦ Mr.  Barham  is  himself  a mystic  philosopher.  His  system  is  termed  Alism  (from 

the  name  of  Jehovah),  and  purports  to  view  everything  in  the  light  of  the  Divine. 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


569 


ume  of  his  private  correspondence.  I select  the  following  passage 
from  this  life,  as  giving  a very  intelligible  delineation  of  the  man ; 
though  we  may  not  be  so  well  able  to  gi'asp  his  views  as  a philoso- 
pher. “ His  mind  was  of  a very  ethereal,  transcendental,  and 
mystical  cast,  resembling  that  of  Jacob  Behmen,  to  \yhorn  he  was 
fervently  attached.  This  peculiarity  in  intellect,  did  not  well  ac- 
cord with  the  mercantile  business  in  which  his  earlier  years  were 
spent,  and,-  after  getting  rich  in  commerce,  he  lost  his  fortune  by 
imprudent  speculations.  On  the  settlement  of  his  affairs,  he  went 
abroad,  and  became  particularly  intimate  with  Pestalozzi,  and  his 
educational  system ; in  short,  Greaves  was  for  years  Pestalozzi’s 
right  hand  man,  and  he  first  introduced  Pestalozzi’s  books  and 
methods  into  this  country.  It  was  during  his  residence  abroad, 
that  Greaves  became  pi’ofoundly  initiated  in  the  German  and  Swiss 
illuminism  ; he  also  attached  himself  to  the  aesthetic  or  sentimental 
philosophy,  on  which  Baumgarten,  Kant,  Richter,  and  Schiller 
wrote  so  eloquently.  This  aesthetic  philosophy,  long  pd^oular  in 
Germany,  Greaves  endeavored  to  promote  in  this  country ; and  he 
formed  an  aesthetic  society,  the  only  one  I ever  met  with  in  Britain, 
which  used  to  meet  every  week  in  his  house  in  Burton  Street. 

“ The  divine  reality  to  which  Greaves  ever  directed  was  the  life 
of  God  in  man’s  soul.  He  professed  himself  an  Alist  emphatically 
in  my  presence.  He  recognized,  like  Fenelon,  Poiret,  Law,  and 
other  mystics,  an  inspiring  vital  divinity,  which  he  used  to  term 
the  central  spirit,  or  fountain  of  immortality  within.  It  is  almost 
impossible  to  describe  aright  the  fervor  and  enthusiasm  with  which 
Greaves  maintained  the  reality  of  the  alistic  and  divine  spiritualism. 
He  professed  that  he  realized  it  as  actually  pi'esent,  as  an  element 
in  life  more  intense  than  any  imaginable  electricity ; and  his  faith 
in  this  spirit,  by  wltich  he  felt  himself  inspired,  always  preserved 
in  him  the  most  lively  cheerfulness  and  freedom  from  anxious  care. 
This  was  the  more  remarkable,  as  Greaves  drank  nothing  but  water, 
and  ate  only  fruit  and  vegetables  for  many  years  before  his  death. 
He  said  to  those  who  recommended  him  a grosser  style  of  diet, 
that  the  central  spirit  always  burned  brighter  and  stronger  in  pro- 
portion to  his  abstinence  from  meats  ; nor  was  his  joyous  anima- 
tion apparently  depressed  by  a painful  internal  disease,  which  tor- 
mented him  extremely,  and  finally  brought  him  to  his  grave.” 

We  might  go  on  to  multiply  our  explanations  of  this  mystical 

His  views  are  contained  in  a volume,  entitled  “ A,”  which  comprehends  three  numbers 
of  a periodical  termed  The  Alist,  with  other  miscellanies. 


570 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


philosophy  to  an  indefinite  extent ; but  as  the  author  seemed  to 
tally  incapable  of  throwing  his  ideas  into  a systematic  and  logical 
form,  we  fear  that  the  reader,  like  ourselves,  would  fail  to  grasp 
the  essence  of  it  after  all.  As,  however,  Mr.  Greaves  .has  some 
followers  and  admirers,  of  whom  we  may  name  Mr.  H.  N.  Wright 
in  England,  and  Mr.  Alcott  in  America,  who  has  already  written 
many  valuable  thoughts  on  education,  we  must  look  forward  to  see 
whether  there  is  really  a germ  of  living  thought  lying  under  the 
uncouth  phraseology  with  which  we  are  scandalized  ; and  whether 
it  can  ever  unfold  itself  to  a system  of  philosophic  truth.  Mean- 
time, we  must  request  the  reader,  whose  curiosity  would  prompt 
him  to  look  into  this  form  of  modern  mysticism,  to  consult  “ The 
Contrasting  Magazine,”  published  in  1827,  a small  volume,  entitled 
“ Physical  and  Metaphysical  Hints  for  Everybody,”  “ Thoughts  on 
Spiritual  Culture,”  and  a pamphlet,  entitled"  The  sentiments  of  R. 
Owen  and  J.  P.  Greaves  contrasted.”  To  attempt  fully  to  explain 
the  system  which  these  works  unfold,  would  be  attempting  to  ex- 
plain that  of  which  we  have  never  succeeded  in  gaining  a clear 
conception  ; we  merely  point  out  the  above  works  as  containing 
one  of  the  most  mystical  of  all  the  mysticisms  of  the  present  age. 

II.  The  second  mode  of  mysticism  is  that  which  supposes  truth 
to  be  gained  by  a fixed  supernatural  channel.  And,  first,  we  must 
show  the  distinction  between  the  mysticism  we  have  now  to  con- 
sider, and  the  scepticism,  based  on  authority,  to  which  we  made 
reference  in  the  former  chapter.  In  that  case,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, there  was  a formal  denial  of  the  validity  of  the  human  fac- 
ulties ; truth,  attainable  by  no  other  means,  was  supposed  to  flow 
by  various  channels  from  a primitive  revelation  of  God  to  man  ; 
and  the  mind,  well-nigh  powerless  in  itself,  was  regarded  as  the 
bare  receptacle  of  ideas  coming  to  it  from  an  outward  source.  In 
the  mysticism  now  before  us,  there  is,  indeed,  the  same  denial  of 
validity  to  the  intellectual  faculties  in  their  original  state  ; but  by 
supernatural  interposition,  regularly  and  systematically  supplied, 
they  are  imagined  to  be  so  enlightened  and  stimulated,  as  to  appre- 
hend truth — even  such  as  lies  beyond  the  reach  of  the  natural 
man.  We  term  the  former  scepticism;  because, on  the  hypothesis 
there  made,  the  mind  of  man  never  becomes  per  se  cognizant  of 
absolute  truth,  but  simply  receives  it  through  a given  medium  from 
an  objective  source.  We  term  the  latter,  on  the  other  hand,  mysti- 
cism ; because  the  mind  is  made  actually  capable  subjectively,  of 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


571 


acquiring  truth,  but  is  condi  tioned  for  this  process  by  supernatural 
agency. 

This  form  of  mystical  philosophy  has  been  maintained  in  our 
own  country  chiefly  by  teachers  of  religion,  some  of  whom  have 
put  forth  sentiments  on  the  subject  sufficiently  remarkable  to  de- 
mand our  attention.  Their  speculations,  as  might  be  expected, 
refer  rather  to  moral  than  to  metaphysical  truth,  their  object  being 
to  show*,  that  a valid  moral  philosophy  is  impossible  w'hen  the  as- 
sistance of  revealed  religion  is  not  embraced  in  the  creation  of  it. 
We  shall  attempt,  therefore,  to  give  a brief*  analysis  of  the  system, 
as  it  appears  in  the  writings  of  one  or  two  of  its  abettors. 

And,  first,  w'e  shall  refer  to  a somewhat  small  volume,  entitled 
“Christian  Morals,”  by  the  Rev.  W.  Sewell,  M.A.,  formerly  Pro- 
fessor of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Oxford, — a volume 
pretty  extensively  known,  as  containing  the  ethical  system  adopted 
by  the  Tractarian  Theologians.  In  this  work  there  is,  undoubtedly, 
much  to  admire,  but  much  also,  as  we  think,  to  repudiate  ; much 
good  reasoning,  but  still  more  unwarrantable  assumption ; many 
glimpses  of  truth,  but  still  too  many  admissions  of  error.  With 
the  anti-sensationalism  of  the  author  we  fully  coincide,  and  have 
rejoiced  in  the  stern  rebukes  with  which  he  has  met  its  shallow 
pretensions  ; but,  with  the  exception  of  what  bears  upon  this  point, 
we  can  find  very  little  that  assumes  a truly  scientific  character  in 
the  whole  volume. 

The  object  of  the  work,  it  should  be  understood,  is  to  sketch  out 
a complete  system  of  ethics  ; to  account  for  the  existence  of  moral 
truth  in  the  world  ; to  explain  the  nature  and  growth  of  the  moral 
emotions  in  the  human  mind.  The  author,  almost  at  the  outset, 
abjures  all  the  attempts  which  a rationalistic  or  ideal  philosophy 
is  able  to  make,  in  order  to  do  this ; with  equal  decision  he  denies 
the  claims  both  of  eclecticism  and  syncretism  ;*  and,  having  thus 
cleared  the  way,  introduces  at  length  his  own.  theory  on  the  subject. 
The  essence  of  this  theory  may  be  stated  in  few  words. 

Man,  by  the  very  constitution  of  his  mind,  is  adapted  to  perceive 
certain  relations,  as  existing  between  persons,  just  in  the  same 
manner,  as  by  a primitive  judgment  we  perceive  relations  between 
things.”! 

The  feelings,  which  arise  within  us,  on  the  perception  of  them 
are  instinctive,  and,  consequently,  both  universal  and  eternal. J 

♦ Chaps.  7,  8,  and  9.  f Chaps.  23  and  24. 

X Eage  349.  “ From  whence  do  these  ideas  of  relation  come  1 They  are  implanted 


572 


MODERN  rUILOSOPHT. 


In  this  perception,  then,  and  in  these  feelings,  lies  the  primitive 
germ  of  our  moral  being. 

Man,  however,  at  his  birth,  is  under  the  influence  of  a corrupt 
nature;  the  evil  spirit  has  dominion  over  him ; so  that,  instead  of 
perceiving  these  moral  relations  aright,  he  views  them  distortedly, 
and  acts,  as  the  consequence,  incongruously.* 

All  moral  education  consists  in  impressing  upon  minds  the  right 
knowledge  of  these  relations  ; because  from  right  knowledge  of 
them,  right  actions  will  infallibly  flow.f 

This  education  begins  in  the  act  of  Christian  baptism  ; by  which 
we  are  placed  in  an  entirely  new  position  with  respect  to  moral 
evil,  the  heart  being  in  that  act  regenerated,  and  the  powers  of 
evil  exorcised. + 

The  moral  faculties  being  thus  set  right,  they  must  be  further 
enlightened,  strengthened,  and  perfected  by  the  instruction  of  the 
Catholic  Church ; by  perfect  submission  to  all  its  requisitions ; and 
by  the  mystery  of  the  holy  communion,  in  which  we  become  par- 
takers of  a Divine  nature — the  old  man  being  crucified  and  dead. 

In  this  manner  the  moral  emotions  become  healthy  and  active  ; 
the  dim  undefined  light  of  nature  is  no  longer  our  guide ; but  we 
follow  the  road  pointed  out  to  us  by  the  authorized  teachers  of 
Catholic  Christianity,  our  faculties  having  been  prepared  before- 
hand rightly  to  receive  and  clearly  to  comprehend  all  their  instruc- 
tions.§ 

These  ideas,  then,  we  select  out  of  the  mass  of  theories  and 
opinions  which  come  before  us  in  the  work  under  consideration,  as 
containing  the  essence  of  its  moral  system.  The  whole,  in  fact, 
may  be  compressed  in  these  few  words.  Man  is  born  with  a moral 
capacity,  but  in  a confused  and  perverted  state;  the  grace  con- 
veyed in  baptism  sets  him  morally  right ; and  the  living  teaching 
of  the  Church  has  to  perfect  what  is  thus  commenced. 

Now,  in  the  whole  development  of  this  system,  however  ingen- 
ious it  may  be,  it  cannot  be  concealed  that  the  writer  is  aiming  at 
a particular  purpose,  rather  than  investigating  impartially  scientific 
truth.  The  whole  plan  of  it  is  so  heterogeneous,  that  it  could 
hardly  hav’e  been  formed  in  any  mind  without  the  influence  of 

in  us  by  nature.  They  lie  dormant  m the  mind  of  every  human  being,  are  unaltera- 
ble, eternal,”  In  p.  381,  however,  the  author  says,  that  “ We  must  learn  both  the  rela- 
tions, and  duties  consequent  on  them,  from  the  witness  appointed  by  God  to  reveal  his 
will,”  and  these  are  the  parent,  the  king,  and  the  Church.  I cannot  undertake  to 
expound  this  jumble  of  Platonism  and  Hobbism. 

* Chaps.  12  and  14.  t Chap.  23. 

j;  Chap.  16.  ^ Passim. 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


573 


certain  outward  motives  to  mould  the  opinions  advanced  into  their 
fantastic  shapes.  , It  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty  indeed  that  we 
can  arrange  the  system,  scientifically  speaking,  under  any  partic- 
ular school.  The  first  step  in  man’s  moral  development,  as  our 
author  views  it,  is  grounded  upon  idealism, — it  affirms  innate  moral 
powers  and  instincts.  The  next  step  is  scepticism ; for  it  affirms 
the  fundamental  disorder  of  these  powers,  and  the  consequent 
impossibility  of  gaining  moral  truth  by  them  alone.  The  third  step 
is  mysticism ; for  by  a supernatural  agency,  the  nature  of  which  is 
not  very  explicitly  stated,  the  moral  perfections  are  all  rectified  in 
a moment,  the  spirit  that  haunted  them  exorcised.  Lastly,  with  all 
the  author’s  horror  for  eclecticism  and  syncretism,  yet  we  find  him 
culling  from  Plato,  from  Aristotle,  from  the  Christian  fathers,  as 
' well  as  all  the  different  philosophical  schools  of  modern  times,  to 
which  we  have  just  alluded.  Let  any  one  compare  the  ethical 
philosophy  of  Jouffroy  (the  great  eclectic  moralist  of  France)  with 
the  work  now  before  us,  and  say  in  which  lies  the  least  eclecticism 
and  the  greatest  unity,  both  of  design  and  of  execution.  We  doubt 
not,  but  that  any  impartial  and  scientific  judge  would  give  the 
palm  in  this  respect  to  the  former. 

With  the  idealism,  and,  to  a certain  extent,  with  the  eclecticism 
of  Mr.  Sewell  (for  eclectic  he  assuredly  is)  we  can  fully  sympa- 
thize ; they  harmonize  perfectly  with  the  principles  we  have  main- 
tained throughout  this  whole  work : with  his  scepticism  and  his 
mysticism,  however,  we  entirely  disagree.  Let  us  turn  our  atten- 
tion for  a moment  to  his  scepticism.  The  principle  upon  which 
this  proceeds  is  shown,  first  of  all,  in  the  contest  that  he  undertakes 
against  rationalism.  The  author  here  attempts  to  repel  and  to  pour 
abundant  ridicule  upon  the  attempt,  which  some  philosophers  have 
made,  to  form  for  themselves  a system  of  ethics  simply  by  the  ex- 
ercise of  their  own  reason.  Moral  truth,  derived  in  this  way,  he 
considers  as  synonymous  with  “ the  fancies  of  individual  menf 
and  strives  to  prove  that,  whatever  may  be  viewed  upon  this  ground 
as  right  one  day,  may  be  proved  wrong  the  next. 

To  bear  out  his  assertions  on  this  point,  he  takes  some  two  or 
three  parallel  (!)  illustrations  firom  the  experimental  sciences — as 
geology,  chemistry,  &c.  ; as  though  it  followed,  that,  because  men 
cannot  form  right  conclusions  on  these  matters  without  the  aid  of 
the  observation  and  testimony  of  others,  therefore  they  cannot  do 
so  in  the  case  of  abstract  and  necessary  truth.  Why,  the  argu- 
ment of  the  idealist  is  constructed  to  meet  this  very  objection.  He 


574 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


contends  that  there  are  certain  principles  of  eternal  and  immutable 
truth  in  the  world  ; that,  while  empirical  facts  must  be  gained  by 
observation,  by  diligent  colligation,  and  by  the  testimony  of  others 
on  the  same  points,  there  are  certain  foundation  truths,  which  rest 
upon  the  necessary  constitution  of  our  own  minds,  and  for  the 
pledge  of  whose  validity  we  need  no  second  opinion.  Might  not 
the  “ dear  little  original  independent  thinher'’  whom  the  author 
chuckles  over,  perchance  discover,  that  the  angles  at  the  base  of 
an  isosceles  are  equal  ? Might  he  not  haply  rear  up  a whole  edifice 
of  mathematical  truth  without  the  least  fear,  that  what  he  discovers 
to-day  may  prove  wrong  to-morrow  ? Now  idealism  contends  that 
there  are  axioms  of  metaphysical,  of  moral,  aye,  and  of  theological 
truth,  too,  which  are  quite  as  certain  as  those  we  have  just  men- 
tioned. The  only  proof  of  the  validity  of  mathematical  axioms  and 
deductions,  is,  that  they  express  necessary  relations,  which  our  rea- 
son, constituted  as  we  have  it,  can  never  reject ; and  precisely  the 
same  proof  is  at  hand  to  verify  the  fundamental  laws,  both  of  moral 
and  of  metaphysical  philosophy.  Here,  as  well  as  in  mathematical 
investigations,  we  discover  principles  which  appeal  at  once  to  the 
human  consciousness,  and  which  possess  that  mark  of  necessity, 
which  raises  them  altogether  above  the  reach  of  mere  observation, 
or  the  province  of  external  testimony.  Let  men  beware  how  they 
tamper  with  these  primary  laws  of  human  belief ; let  them  beware 
how  they  allow  scepticism  to  plant  its  first  step  within  the  region 
of  our  rational  convictions:  once  undermine  the  power  and  validity 
of  our  faculties  in  their  application  to  the  grounds,  either  of  meta- 
physics, morals,  or  religion,  and  the  catholic  testimony  of  the  whole 
Church  will  not  save  the  most  precious  truth  we  possess  from 
refutation  and  ruin. 

Again,  the  author’s  scepticism  shows  itself  in  the  effects  which 
he  regards  as  flowing  from  the  corruption  of  human  nature.  His 
theory  is,  that  this  corruption  prevents  us  from  viewing  moral  re- 
lations aright ; and  that  the  evil  cannot  be  rectified  without  the 
rite  of  baptism  and  the  aid  of  the  Church.  What  is  here  involved, 
we  would  ask,  but  a perpetual  paralogism  ? The  duty  of  belief, 
the  duty  of  submission,  the  duty  of  entire  trust  to  authority,  is  re- 
iterated and  asserted  to  satiety  ; but  whence,  it  is  demanded,  does 
the  obligation  of  exercising  such  belief  and  such  submission  flow  ? 
My  friend  over  the  way,  perchance,  was  never  canonically  bap- 
tized ; he  has  never  had  the  mysterious  influence  supposed  exerted 
upon  him ; he  has  never  sat  at  the  feet  of  a Catholic,  or  Anglo- 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


575 


Catholic  priest ; his  moral  nature,  therefore,  is  unsound  ; he  can- 
not possibly  view  the  relations  of  duty  aright.  On  what  ground, 
then,  do  you  urge  upon  him  the  duty  of  belief?  He  has  not,  on 
the  hypothesis  before  us,  the  capacity  to  feel  it  to  be  a duty. 
Words  to  him  are  nothing  : for  there  is  no  correct  moral  sen- 
sibility  to  work  upon.  Talk  not  of  his  sin,  his  pride,  his  resist- 
ance of  law,  his  rejection  of  God’s  authorized  teachers ; if  his 
fundamental  notions  of  moral  obligation  are  perverted,  duty  is  to 
him,  in  comparison  with  a baptized  person,  a nonentity.  In  brief, 
if  those  without  the  Catholic  Church  are  left  so  perverted,  that 
their  moral  nature  does  not  act  aright  within  them,  then  all  argu- 
ment to  bring  them  to  the  pale,  all  attempts  to  prove  them  wrong, 
must  be  unavailing : the  only  course  must  be  to  cajole  them  to  the 
font,  and  having  regenerated  them,  then,  at  length,  to  appeal  to 
their  renewed  hearts.  Whilst,  however,  the  moral  faculties  are 
all  twisted,  in  the  name  of  consistency  do  not  blame  them  for  a 
want  of  belief,  the  obligation  of  which  they  are  morally  incapable 
of  perceiving.  Again  we  say,  to  deny  the  validity  of  a man’s 
moral  faculties,  and  then  to  affirm  him  wrong  in  not  performing 
the  moral  act  of  belief,  implies  a paralogism  in  reason,  and  an  ab- 
surdity in  practice. 

Into  the  author’s  mysticism  we  should  be  tempted  to  enter  far 
more  largely,  were  we  writing  on  theological  principles  rather  than 
those  of  speculative  philosophy.  As,  however,  we  certainly  regard 
it  entirely  out  of  place,  in  a work  pretending  to  scientific  rigor,  to 
advance  so  loosely  and  affirm  with  so  little  proof,  as  our  author 
has  done,  the  reality  of  sacramental  efficacy,  so  we  should  be  step- 
ping out  of  our  own  track  in  marshalling  any  arguments,  derived 
from  Scripture  or  experience,  which  may  lie  against  it.  But  ex- 
traordinary it  certainly  appears  to  us,  that  any  one  should  accuse 
man’s  instinctive  moral  convictions  of  indefiniteness,  and  then  ap- 
peal to  an  abstraction,  called  the  Catholic  Church,  to  obtain  a sci- 
entific system  of  ethical  truth  in  which  this  indistinctness  should 
be  rectified.  Let  any  one  consider  the  mass  of  conflicting  opin- 
ions, both  on  religion  and  ethics,  which  has  been  held  by  the  visible 
church  in  different  ages ; let  any  one  consider  the  difficulty  of  de- 
ciding which  out  of  this  whole  mass  must  be  Catholic  truth  and 
which  the  incrustation  of  error  ; let  any  one  look  round  him  now, 
and  see  how  many  authorized  teachers  of  the  Church  itself  are 
giving  completely  contradictory  views  on  the  same  points,  and 
those  of  fundamental  importance ; let  any  one,  in  fine,  estimate 


576 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


t!ie  difficulty  and  uncertainty  of  historical  inquiry  reaching  back 
into  remote  ages,  the  chief  monuments  of  which  have  perished  in 
the  wreck  of  time,  and  then  say,  whether  he  is  willing  to  rest  the 
fundamental  principles  of  moral  obligation  upon  this  basis. 

The  whole  work  is  in  fact  a feeble  imitation  of  the  modern 
French  Catholic  school  of  philosophy.  When  the  authors  of  such 
works  have  so  vast  an  amount  of  authority  as  is  presented  by  the 
Catholic  Church  to  back  these  arguments,  there  is  at  least  some 
semblance  of  argument,  especially  as  addressed  to  a Catholic  peo- 
ple. But  for  the  advocate  of  one  small  school  out  of  the  whole 
mass  of  Protestantism  to  set  up  the  plea  of  universal  authority, 
and  that  too  grounded  on  his  own  sectarian  interpretation  of  the 
Christian  doctrines, — this  is  indeed  an  exhibition  over  which  the 
Gallican  Catholic  may  smile,  but  the  English  Protestant  will  only 
be  inclined  to  mourn. 

Leaving,  therefore,  the  Anglo-Catholic  system  of  ethics,  we  go 
on  to  notice  another  form  in  which  this  same  species  of  mysticism 
is  sometimes  advanced,  and  that  is,  when  the  authority  of  the  Bible 
is  substituted  for  that  of  the  Church.  I might  mention  Dr.  Ward- 
law’s  “Christian  Ethics”  as  an  instance  of  that  to  w'hich  I am  now’ 
alluding  ; in  which  it  is  maintained  that  human  nature  is  too  per- 
verted morally  ever  to  arrive  at  pure  ethical  truth  without  the  in- 
fluence which  the  revealed  word  exerts  upon  the  mind.  Here,  as 
in  the  other  case,  there  is  a principle  involved,  which,  if  consist- 
ently maintained,  wmuld  strike  at  the  root  of  all  moral  obligation. 
For,  not  only  must  our  personal  responsibility  on  this  hypothesis 
be  diminished,  but  even  religion  itself  must  lose  its  foundation  and 
its  force,  when  once  the  sanctity  of  conscience,  as  an  inward  law, 
is  disowned.  All  religion  rests  upon ‘the  existence  of  a God,  infi- 
nitely just  and  holy,  as  well  as  powerful  and  great ; but  of  what 
use  were  it  that  the  moral  perfections  of  Deity  should  be  displayed 
in  the  world  around  us,  or  in  the  written  word,  if  we  had  no  cor- 
rect moral  sensibility,  to  which  these  manifestations  might  appeal  ? 
Unless  there  were  a standard  of  right  within  us,  we  could  never 
conceive  of  holiness  or  moral  perfection  as  the  attributes  of  the 
Supreme  Being ; and,  w'anting  this  conception,  religion  would  be 
a nonentity. 

The  influence  of  depravity  falls  primarily  upon  our  dispositions. 
Indisposition  towards  what  is  holy  may  divert  our  thoughts  from 
moral  truth,  and  weaken  our  conceptions  of  it ; then,  the  concep- 
tions being  weakened,  the  moral  emotions  will  be  less  intense- 


MYSTICISM  IN  ENGLAND. 


57? 


But  never  can  sin  invert  or  disturb  the  great  principles  of  man’s 
moral  nature.  Conscience  may  be  seared,  but  never  deranged;  it 
may  cease  to  speak,  but  it  will  never  turn  upside  down  the  great 
relations  of  good  and  evil.  Moral  approbation  will  ever  follow  the 
perception  of  what  is  esteemed  right ; moral  disapprobation  the 
perception  of  what  is  esteemed  wrong.  Were  we  to  suppose  it  to 
be  otherwise,  man  would  not  only  be  placed  beyond  the  region  of 
responsibility ; but  there  would  be  a moral  impossibility  that  he 
could  ever  be  taught  the  sacredness  of  virtue,  or  the  turpitude  of 
vice.  Just  as  no  teaching  could  convey  the  notion  of  salt  or  bitter, 
if  sensation  were  deranged,  so,  also,  no  course  of  moral  instruc- 
tion, not  even  a revelation  itself,  could  ever  give  us  the  perception 
of  good  and  evil,  if  our  moral  sensibilities  were  thrown  into  con- 
fusion. ^ 

III.  We  come  now  to  consider  the  third  mode  of  mysticism,  to 
which  we  have  alluded ; that,  namely,  which  supposes  all  truth  to 
be  gained  by  extraordinary  supernatural  means.  This,  of  course, 
must  be  regarded  simply  as  a species  of  religious  mysticism,  held, 
for  the  most  part,  by  those  who  make  but  little  pretension  to  philo- 
sophical investigation.  It  results  frequently,  for  example,  from  an 
exaggerated  view  of  the  Scriptural  doctrine  of  Divine  influence. 
Not  a few  earnest  believers  in  Christianity,  with  a mistaken  desire 
of  enhancing  the  value  of  revelation,  would  have  us  to  suppose, 
that  all  absolute  truth  must  be  communicated  by  the  special  opera- 
tion of  the  Spirit  upon  the  mind.  Man,  it  is  argued,  is  blinded  by 
sin,  his  reason  is  beclouded,  he  cannot  understand  reyealed  truth 
though  it  blaze  forth  in  the  clearest  light  from  the  sacred  page ; but 
a special  enlightenment  comes  over  him,  and  then  truth  becomes 
plain  and  obvious. 

In  this  system,  we  see  simpl}"  the  exaggeration  of  a great  theo- 
logical doctrine.  That  the  eternal  and  infinite  Spirit  should  com- 
municate with  those  finite  spirits,  which  are  emanations  from  its 
own  essence,  is  philosophically  probable,  and  theologically  certain  ; 
but  far  is  this  from  justifying  the  sweeping  conclusion,  that  all 
absolute  truth  must  depend  upon  such  especial  communings  of  God 
with  man.  To  the  spiritual  nature  of  man,  indeed,  they  may  be 
all  in  all ; but  God  has  not  left  him  so  irresponsible  as  it  would  be 
implied  that  he  really  is,  were  he  entirely  dependent  intellectually 
upon  the  extraordinary  communications  of  spiritual  influence,  in 
order  to  view  truth  aright.  That  direct  intercourse  with  God  is 
permitted,  and  that  it  answers  a purpose  infinitely  important  in 

37 


578 


MODEIIN  rHILOSOPHY. 


human  destiny,  we  fully  believe ; but  assuredly  it  was  never 
intended  to  supply  the  place,  or  to  contravene  the  duty,  of  our 
own  intellectual  eflbrt.  As  these  phenomena,  however,  come  more 
under  the  idea  of  religious  than  philosophical  mysticism,  we  shall 
now,  having  indicated  their  existence,  forbear  to  pursue  them  any 
farther. 

To  sum  up,  then,  our  remarks  upon  the  modern  mysticism  of 
England  in  few  words,  we  would  remind  our  readers  that  the 
errors  which  it  contains  are  all  errors  either  of  defect  or  of  exag- 
geration ; and  that  every  form  of  it  really  contains  some  germ  of 
truth  at  the  basis,  to  which  it  owes  its  existence.  Look  at  the  first 
form.  That  truth  may  stream  in  rays  of  beauty  upon  the  mind, 
through  the  medium  of  our  inward  sensibility,  (since  all  our  affec- 
tions have  their  appropriate  object,)  we  can  hajdly  entertain  a 
doubt ; but  when  sensibility  is  substituted  for  reason,  and  raised  to 
a position  superior  to  it  in  the  development  of  our  knowledge,  then 
there  is  an  error  admitted,  which  only  needs  a little  unfolding  to 
produce  the  wildest  fancies  of  the  philosophical  mystic.  Again,  to 
adduce  the  second  form — we  should  be  far  from  denying  that  there 
is  such  a thing  as  a fixed  supernatural  channel,  by  which  God  re- 
veals his  will  to  mankind  ; for  the  Bible,  as  we  regard  it,  is  such  a 
channel,  and  so  also  is  the  Church.  But  when  the  Bible  on  the 
one  hand,  or  the  Church  on  the  other,  is  raised  up  as  an  authority 
upon  the  ruins  of  human  reason,  we  cannot  but  think  that  a suicidal 
act  is  virtually  committed,  inasmuch  as  if  the  validity  of  reason  is 
undermined,  the  possibility  of  proving  the  authenticity  of  revela- 
tion itself  is  forever  destroyed.  Lastly,  to  adduce  the  third  form 
of  mysticism,  we  do  not  reject  the  illumination  of  the  soul  of  man 
by  especial  outpourings  of  Divine  influence  ; but  we  contend  that 
such  influences  relate  to  man’s  religious  progress  in  his  probation- 
ary state,  and  are  not  to  be  regarded  as  the  channels  for  conveying 
to  any  mind  either  physical  or  metaphysical  truth.  Mysticism,  in 
fact,  within  its  due  limits,  expresses  what  is  true  and  sacred  ; be- 
yond those  limits  it  becomes  a vain  and  a pernicious  assumption. 


Sect.  II. — Modern  Mysticism  in  France. 

France  is  a country  by  no  means  favorable  to  the  rise  or  the 
growth  of  mysticism.  In  no  other  nation  of  Europe  is  the  under- 
standing so  perfectly  developed  as  there.  In  none  is  the  higher 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


579 


reason,  generally  speaking,  developed  so  imperfectly.  As  a conse- 
quence of  this,  sensationalism  has  long  been,  and  still  is,  the  philo- 
sophical system  of  the  mass ; and  although  a strong  reaction  has 
set  in,  it  has  not  yet  worked  long  or  powerfully  enough  to  raise  the 
minds  of  many  into  that  loft)"  region  of  thought,  which  is  chiefly 
accustomed  to  be  swept  by  the  clouds  and  vapors  of  mysticism. 
France  is  the  country  of  clear,  transparent,  mathematical  thinking. 
Its  language  is  of  all  others  definite ; its  idioms  of  all  others  most 
logically  correct,  and  least  poetical.  In  vain  do  we  search  in 
France  for  the  poesy  of  England,  or  the  deep,  mystic,  and  reflec- 
tive spirit  of  Germany.  Extravagant  romance  may  be  sufficiently 
at  home  there,  both  in  literature  and  in  life ; but  the  spiritual 
nature,  the  spring  of  what  is  greatest  in  humanity,  is  too  often  un- 
touched. 

The  stirring  scenes  of  the  Revolution,  and  the  expectations 
which  it  raised  throughout  the  world  of  the  coming  regeneration 
of  human  society,  directed  the  thinking  minds  of  France  more  par- 
ticularly to  the  philosophy  of  social  life ; and  it  is  in  this  depart- 
ment that  speculations  nearest  bordering  upon  mysticism  have 
made  their  appearance  in  that  country. 

The  name  of  St.  Simon  is  well  known  as  heading  a band  of  po- 
litical regenerators.  The  system,  however,  which  he  originated, 
embraces  not  only  the  details  of  a new  social  constitution,  but 
some  other  doctrines,  which  demand  a little  consideration  under  the 
present  section.  The  mystical  element,  we  should  premise,  does 
not  attach  itself  to  St.  Simonism  in  its  principles,  so  much  as  in  its 
details  and  its  spirit.  However  rational  the  grounds  of  any  system 
may  appear,  yet  when  its  advocates  separate  themselves  from  the 
rest  of  the  world,  as  some  superior  race  ; when  they  adopt  a pecul- 
iar garb  and  dress ; wffien  they  announce  a great  crisis  in  the 
world’s  history,  and  promise  a complete  regeneration  of  human 
society  of  which  they  are  themselves  the  precursors ; it  is  hardly 
possible  to  withhold  from  such  visionary  enthusiasts  the  charge  of 
mysticism.  St.  Simon  not  only  attempted  to  introduce  new  social 
principles,  but  a new  Christianity.  Moses,  it  was  said,  had  prom- 
ised to  men  a universal  fraternity.  Jesus  Christ  had  prepared 
it : St.  Simon  has  realized  it.  In  him  the  universal  Church  at 
length  appears,  in  which  the  whole  man,  socially  as  w"ell  as  individ- 
ually, is  embraced. 

Claude  Henri  Count  de  St.  Simon  was  born  at  Paris,  A.D.  1760, 
of  a noble  family.  At  an  early  age  he  went  to  America,  and 


580 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


served  in  the  republican  army.  There  his  first  ideas  of  a new 
state  of  society  were  formed;  and  when  he  returned  to  France, 
instead  of  taking  any  part  in  the  Revolution,  he  gave  himself  up 
entirely  to  the  realization  of  his  cherished  plans  of  social  reform. 
In  1814  he  published  a tract  on  the  “ Reorganization  of  European 
Society.”  Other  works  on  the  same  topics  followed  in  quick  suc- 
cession ; at  length,  poor  in  resources,  and  neglected  by  his  country- 
men, yet  to  the  very  last  urging  his  few  followers  to  go  on  in  the 
path  he  had  opened  for  them,  he  expired  A.D.  1825. 

After  the  death  of  the  apostle,  strange  to  saj%  the  doctrines  he 
had  lived  for  became  suddenly  popular.  Many  of  the  first  men 
joined  the  ranks  of  his  disciples ; and  his  principles  were  power- 
fully advocated  in  the  “ Producteur,”  and  even  to  some  extent  in 
the  “ Globe.”  Around  these  elements  a school  of  social  science 
was  soon  gathered.  The  sentiments  it  upheld  were  publicly 
taught ; books  were  written  to  defend  them  ; journals  published  to 
advocate  them  ; and  even  missionaries  were  sent  forth  to  preach 
the  new  faith  throughout  Europe.  At  this  juncture,  the  civil 
authority  interfered, — the  school  itself,  erected  upon  a very  shallow 
foundation,  suddenly  fell,  and  after  a brief  but  brilliant  career, 
passed  away  like  a dream. 

St.  Simonism  comes  before  us  as  a system  at  once  of  religion, 
philosophy,  and  government — one,  too,  by  which  professedly  all  the 
ills  of  humanity  are  to  be  removed.  That  those  ills  are  at  present 
fearful  both  in  character  and  extent,  all  are  ready  to  admit ; but 
there  are  few  who  can  understand  the  source  from  whence  they 
arise.  Their  real  source,  says  St.  Simon,  is  to  be  found  in  the  total 
and  universal  want  of  social  unity.  Human  life  has  now  no  com- 
mon principle,  no  common  ideas,  no  common  aim.  Individualism 
rules  throughout  society  ; each  man  has  his  own  views,  and  follows 
his  own  purposes;  so  that  the  body  politic,  which  ought  to  be 
working  harmoniously  in  all  its  parts,  is  given  up  to  virtual  anarchy 
and  confusion. 

Philosophy  and  religion  have  both  attempted  to  remedy  these 
evils,  but  in  vain.  Sensationalism  and  idealism,  though  presenting 
many  a fine-spun  theory,  have  been  practically  worthless ; moral 
systems  have  proved  equally  empty  and  futile.  Religion,  though 
it  has  done  its  part,  yet  has  never  assumed  its  highest  form — that 
in  which  the  spiritual  is  made  to  bear  upon  the  material  interests 
of  mankind.  The  real  gospel  of  social  happiness  has  yet  to  be 
proclaimed. 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


581 


The  true  philosophy,  as  also  the  true  religion  for  man,  is  to  be 
sought  for  historically ; to  find  it,  we  must  attempt  to  deduce  the 
law  of  human  development,  both  as  regards  religion  and  society ; 
in  this  way  only  can  we  interpret  the  past,  comprehend  the  pres- 
ent, and  predict  the  future.  Whatever  elements,  moral,  intellec- 
tual, or  religious,  we  find  operating  upon  human  nature  in  the  prog- 
ress of  its  development,  these  are  the  real  elements  with  which 
philosophy  has  to  do. 

St.  Simon’s  doctrine,  therefore,  gives  a philosophy  of  minds, 
rather  than  of  mind;  it  presents  a science  of  humanity  as  a whole, 
rather  than  of  human  nature  in  its  isolation.  Hhis  principle  is  one 
to  which  no  real  objection,  that  we  are  aware,  can  be  made ; nay, 
we  regard  it  as  a most  important  branch  of  philosophy,  to  trace  the 
mental  progress  of  mankind  in  the  world.  All  the  mysticism  at- 
taching to  it  in  the  present  instance  arises  from  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  the  law  of  development  was  proclaimed,  as  a divine 
discovery  of  the  new  prophet,  and  as  a substitute  for  all  philosophy, 
all  politics,  and  all  religion  for  the  future. 

And  what,  then,  is  the  law  of  development,  by  which  humanity 
marches  onward  to  perfection  ? Society,  according  to  St.  Simon, 
has  shown  two  great  phases  or  epochs,  which,  in  long  cycles,  have 
alternated  with  each  other.  The  one  is  the  organic  epoch,  the 
other  the  critical.  Under  the  former,  society  is  always  bound  to- 
gether by  some  general  law — all  its  facts  regulated  by  some  great 
theory.  Under  the  latter,  all  law  and  theory  is  broken  up ; unity 
of  action  ceases  ; and  individual  interests  go  on  clashing  with  each 
other.  This  alternation  has  already  taken  place  twice  in  the  his- 
tory of  humanity.  The  ancient  pagan  period  was  an  organic  state ; 
the  breaking  up  of  paganism  the  critical.  This  led  to  the  second 
organic  period,  by  the  consolidation  of  human  opinion  under  the 
power  of  the  Catholic  Church ; while  the  second  critical  epoch, 
commencing  with  the  Reformation,  found  its  climax  in  the  French 
Revolution.  St.  Simon  considered  himself  raised  up  to  announce 
the  advent  of  a third  organic  period,  now  just  at  hand,  in  which 
war,  confusion,  discord,  shall  all  cease,  and  man  be  united  by  the 
triple  bond  of  a moral,  intellectual,  and  industrial  perfection. 

The  same  law  of  progress,  which  history  shows  us  on  the  broad 
surface  of  human  society,  is  seen  under  another  point  of  view,  in 
the  successive  features  of  man’s  religious  belief.  Religion  has  ap- 
peared under  four  different  aspects  ; that  of  Fetishism,  of  Polythe- 
ism, of  Monotheism,  and  lastly  St.  Simonism.  Under  the  reign 


582 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


of  Fetishism,  cruelty  and  fear  reigned  universally  throughout 
society — it  was  the  age  of  cannibalism,  man  devouring  man, 
society  preying  on  itself.  Polytheism  was  an  advance  upon  this 
state  of  barbarity  ; — the  sentiment  of  humanity  began  to  dawn  ; — • 
slavery  took  the  place  of  Islamism,  and  the  foundations  of  the  social 
edifice  became  visible.  Monotheism,  both  Jewish  and  Christian, 
succeeded.  Slavery  now  gave  way  to  national  institutions ; the 
spirit  of  love  began  to  expand  itself  over  society  at  large,  and  the 
principle  of  selfishness  to  be  resisted.  Christianity,  however,  while 
accomplishing  these  glorious  results,  has  chiefly  aimed  at  the  spir- 
itual education  of  man,  and  has  not  yet  operated  directly  upon  the 
building  up  of  his  social  and  temporal  happiness.  So  far  from  that, 
the  spiritual  and  material  are  put  into  a state  of  antagonism  by  it ; 
which,  however  necessary  as  a critical  era  in  the  progress  of  truth, 
yet  gives  rise  to  a thousand  immediate  evils.  We  await,  then,  the 
last  and  perfect  organic  form  of  the  religious  life  in  the  world; 
that  in  which  the  temporal  and  material  interests  of  man  shall  be 
blended  in  one,  and  social  life  find  its  perfection  in  the  full  expan- 
sion of  religious  truth.  In  this  state  of  society  there  will  be  a due 
provision  for  education,  legislation,  and  religious  worship.  Every 
man  must  be  a producer,  and  every  class  of  producers  must  have 
its  own  proper  sphere  of  action.  Priests  of  religion,  men  of  science, 
and  the  industrial  classes,  these  will  form  the  whole  mass  of  society. 
The  most  eminent  of  the  three  divisions  will  form  the  aristocracy 
— the  whole  together  will  form  at  once  the  church  and  the  state ; 
and  the  great  principle  of  action  will  be,  each  man  according  to  his 
capacity,  and  each  capacity  according  to  its  work.  Such  are  the 
broad  outlines  of  the  St.  Simonian  dictrines.*  Inadmissible  as  they 
appear  in  their  original  form,  they  have,  notwithstanding,  proved 
very  suggestive  to  many  active  minds ; and  stand,  in  fact,  at  the 
vestibule  of  a school  of  social  inquiry,  which  is  now  actively  en- 
gaged in  bringing  forth  many  remarkable  results. 

The  social  system  which  now  holds  by  far  the  most  prominent 
place  in  France,  is  that  of  Charles  Fourier,  (born  1772,  died  1837.) 
It  is  a very  common,  but  a very  erroneous  opinion,  that  Fourier’s 
system  sprang  from  the  St.  Simonian  doctrines.  It  is  well  known, 
on  the  contrary,  that  the  main  points  of  it  were  clearly  developed 
in  the  mind  of  the  author  so  early  as  the  year  1771) ; and  in  the 
year  1808  he  published  his  “ Theorie  de  quatre  Mouvements,”  which 

♦ Abundant  materials  exist  in  Prance  for  studying  the  St.  Simonian  system.  The 
best  works  to  consult  are,  “ Doctrine  de  St.  Simon,”  (Paris,  second  edit.  Ib^D,)  and  an 
“ Exposition  de  la  Doctrine  Suint-Simonienne,”  3 vols. 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


583 


was  many  years  before  St.  Simon  had  produced  the  least  impres- 
sion upon  the  world.  The  fact  is,  that  many  of  the  St.  Simonian 
school,  after  the  death  of  the  founder,  adopted  portions  of  Fourier’s 
phraseology,  and  that,  at  the  dissolution  of  it,  some  of  the  ablest 
writers  came  over  to  the  other  system.  This  may,  probably,  have 
given  rise  to  the  notion,  that  the  phalansterian  doctrines  were  affil- 
iated upon  the  St.  Simonian. 

For  many  years  after  the  publication  of  his  first  work,  Fourier 
excited  no  attention ; his  only  friend  and  follower  was  M.  Just 
Muiron,  who,  impressed  with  the  grandeur  of  his  views  of  society, 
entered  warrnly  with  him  into  the  task  of  propagating  them.  In 
1822  Fourier  published  his  “ Theorie  de  I’Unite  Universelle,”  which 
was  succeeded  by  the  “ Nouveau  Monde  Industriel  et  Societaire,” 
and  “ La  fausse  Industrie.”  These  works,  though  giving  a very  full 
and  even  learned  exposition  of  his  doctrines,  yet  are  written  in  a 
style  so  strange,  and  a technology  so  unusual,  that  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  they  produced  but  little  effect  upon  the  public  at 
large.  Fortunately  for  the  credit  of  the  system,  it  succeeded  in 
engaging  the  eloquent  pen  of  M.  Victor  Considerant ; to  him  were 
added  from  the  ranks  of  the  St.  Simonians,  M.  Abel  Transon  and 
M.  Jules  Le  Chevalier.  After  the  death  of  Fourier,  accordingly, 
in  1837,  the  school  began  to  organize  itself ; and  the  doctrines 
it  maintained  began  to  spread  amongst  many  thinking  minds  in 
France.  A journal  entitled  “La  Phalange,”  which  had  been  insti- 
tuted in  1836,  advocated,  and  still  advocates  the  views  of  the 
society  with  great  spirit ; and  within  the  last  year  or  two  a daily 
paper,  “ La  Democratie  Pacifique,”  has  been  entirely  devoted  to 
its  principles  and  interests.  The  school  is  at  this  moment,  we  be- 
lieve, greatly  on  the  increase : the  “ bulletins  ” for  the  last  three 
years  show,  at  any  rate,  a vast  accession  both  of  money  and 
men.* 

Our  readers  may  now  be  interested  to  understand  something  of 
a system,  which  confessedly  constitutes  a “ great  fact”  in  the  lit- 
erar)^  history  of  the  present  day ; for  although  it  appears  promi- 
nently as  a social  theory,  yet  being  grounded  in  metaphysical  prin- 
ciples, it  can  be  viewed,  strictly  speaking,  as  a complete  system  of 
philosophy. 

First  of  all,  then,  according  to  Fourier,  it  must  be  admitted  that 

♦ An  attempt  was  made  to  introduce  the  system  into  England  by  Mr.  Doherty,  who 
published  for  a short  time  the  “ London  Phalanx.”  While  this  has  disappeared  in 
England,  the  literature  has  been  vastly  increasing  in  France.  I have  before  me  a 
catalogue  of  more  than  thirty  separate  works,  advocating  the  phalansterian  system. 


584 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


reason  is  to  man  an  organ  of  truth.  Without  this  admission,  all 
philosophy,  nay,  all  human  knowledge,  is  worthless.  But  reason 
grasps  not  truth  at  once.  Starting  from  a few  fundamental  prin- 
ciples it  makes  many  tentative  efforts,  falls  into  many  errors,  and 
yet  in  the  main  advances.  So  it  was,  for  example,  in  astronomy, 
until  the  true  law  of  gravitation  was  established,  when  all  became 
plain.  So  it  is  with  regard  to  society  ; theories  of  socialism  can 
be  only  tentative  until  the  real  law  of  human  nature  is  eliminated ; 
but  then  society  will  become  harmonious. 

As  the  foundation  of  all  science,  we  must  raise  our  minds  to  the 
contemplation  of  God.  Everything  within  and  around  us  pro- 
claims the  existence  of  a supreme  being  of  infinite  intelligence, 
wisdom,  and  goodness.  From  him  all  creation  has  flowed  forth ; 
and  all  must,  therefore,  bear  upon  it  the  impress  of  his  own  divine 
and  harmonious  mind.  Experience  proves  that  this  is  the  case, 
for  nature  is  full  of  harmony.  Music  is  a manifestation  of  divine 
harmony ; the  colors  of  the  spectrum  afford  us  another  manifesta- 
tion of  it ; wherever  we  look,  the  same  great  feature  of  the  divine 
nature  is  exhibited.* 

Man  was  made  in  the  image  of  God ; he  is  the  mirror  of  the 
universe.  As  such,  there  must  be  in  human  nature  at  once  the 
purest  harmony,  and  the  highest  unity.  To  suppose  otherwise, 
would  be  absolutely  derogatory  to  the  wisdom,  the  power,  or  the 
beneficence  of  the  Creator.  Evil,  it  is  true,  exists,  but  this  may 
be  easily  explained.  Suppose  a mechanic  to  construct  a beautiful 
machine,  and  some  bungling  workmen  were  to  throw  it  into  con- 
fusion, should  we  say  that  the  fault  were  in  the  machine,  or  in  the 
ignorance  of  the  workmen  ? Of  course  the  latter.  So  it  is  with 
humanity.  As  made  by  God,  it  is  a perfect  and  harmonious  con- 
struction ; and  the  source  of  all  evil  is  to  be  sought  for  in  that 
wide-spread  ignorance,  which,  without  comprehending  human  na- 
ture aright,  throws  it  into  false  positions,  and  puts  all  its  fine-strung 
harmonies  into  discord. f 

The  great  thing,  then,  is  to  study  man : — to  study  him  by  the 
purest  light  of  our  reason ; to  bring  to  bear  on  the  investigation 
all  we  know  of  God,  the  Creator,  and  all  the  analysis  of  creation 
at  large.  The  study  of  man  comprehends  two  fields  of  research, 
— that  of  his  history,  and  that  of  his  constitution.  History  shows 

* See  “ Nouveau  Monde  Indust.”  p.  445.  Also,  “ Solidarite,”  by  Hippolyte  Renaud, 
chaps,  ii.  and  viii.  Throughout  all  his  works,  Fourier  draws  frequent  illustrations  from 
•m/udc,  to  which  he  had  been  early  passionately  attached. 

t “ Solidarite,  p.  25. 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


585 


US  humanity  passing  through  a succession  of  phases,  answering  to 
tlie  infancy,  youth,  adolescence,  virility,  and  old  age  of  the  individ- 
ual, and  termed  by  Fourier,  Edenisme,  Sauvagerie,  Patriarcat, 
Barbarie,  Civilisation.  In  these  several  eras,  we  see  the  principle 
of  union  gradually  developing  in  connection  with  the  rise  of  the 
arts  and  sciences. 

The  next  step  in  human  progress,  must  be  that  in  which  the 
present  system  of  individualism  prevalent  through  society  shall  be 
broken  up ; in  which  the  true  law  of  society  shall  be  discovered ; 
in  which  men  shall  find  their  highest  interest  and  happiness  in  the 
public  weal ; in  which  the  happiness  of  the  individual  and  the  com- 
munity shall  be  absolutely  identified.  This  state  is  termed  that  of 
harmony  * 

To  understand  this  state,  and  the  means  of  attaining  it,  we  must 
become  acquainted  with  man  in  his  nature  and  constitution.  Upon 
the  knowledge  of  these,  Fourier’s  whole  social  system  depends. 
Man  is  in  himself  a trinity,  a compound  of  three  principles.! 

1.  The  Passions — Active  or  motive  principle. 

2.  The  Body — Passive  principle. 

3.  Intelligence — Regulative  or  mathematical  principle. 

The  hody  is  the  mere  organ  or  tool  of  the  man.  Intelligence 
gives  the  rules  or  laws  of  all  movement;  and  \h&  passions  are  the 
sole  causes  which  impel  the  will  to  action.  J The  real  man,  then, 
is  to  be  studied  in  the  will,  and  in  all  the  passions  (i.  e.  motives) 
which  determine  it ; to  understand  man,  therefore,  aright,  we  must 
endeavor  to  grasp  the  whole  of  the  principles  of  his  activity,  and 
comprehend  the  mechanism  of  his  passions. 

These  have  been  discussed  by  Fourier  with  great  acuteness  and 
precision.  As  there  are  three  parts  of  the  human  constitution,  so, 
he  considers,  there  are  three  classes  of  passions,  representing  three 
ruling  tendencies  or  attractions.  1.  There  is  the  tendency  to  phys- 
ical enjoyment,  (tendance  au  luxe,)  and  this  is  satisfied  through 
the  sensitive  passions;  namely,  taste,  smell,  sight,  hearing,  touch. 
2.  There  is  the  tendency  in  man  to  form  into  groups  with  his  fel- 
low-man : this  tendency  is  supplied  by  the  affective  passions, 
which  are  friendship,  ambition,  love,  and  domesticity.  3.  There 
is  the  tendency  to  series  or  rank.  Men  not  only  form  into  groups, 
but  different  groups  seek  to  attain  a different  rank  or  standing  in 
society,  thus  creating  a regular  system  of  series  or  degrees  from 

* “ Nouveau  Monde,”  secs.  vi.  and  vii.  -|-  “ Solidarity, ” p.  38. 

•J:  The  term  passion  is  used  by  Fourier  to  signify  any  inward  motive  whatever. 


58G 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


tlie  lowest  to  the  highest.  This  tendency  is  sewed  by  three  pas- 
sions— emulation,  agreement,  and  diversity ; for  men  of  different 
ranks  will  stand  affected  to  others  by  rivalry,  by  sympathy  in  their 
views,  or  by  the  love  of  change.  These  are  termed  by  Fourier, 
*'  la  Cabaliste,  la  Composite,  and  la  Papillonne” — forming  the  dis- 
tributive, as  the  othei's  formed  the  affective  passions.  The  whole 
of  these  springs  of  action  thus  tend  to  create  perfect  harmony  in 
society  ; for  just  as  nature  has  taken  care  to  balance  the  numbers 
of  the  sexes,  so  also  does  she  distribute  men  of  different  tendencies 
in  such  a way,  that  the  whole  of  the  passions  shall  be  in  equilib- 
rium, and  perfect  unity  be  the  result,  forming,  as  it  is  termed,  the 
pivot  around  which  the  whole  revolve. 

The  following  table  will  give  a clear  idea  of  the  whole  analysis : — 


PIVOT-PASSION.  GENERIC  PASSIONS.  RADICAL  PASSIONS. 


Unity  or 
Harmony. 


a Tendency  to  Luxury 
or  physical  enjoyment. 


Tendency  to  Groups. 

y Tendency  to  Ranks 
or  Series. 


1.  Taste. 

2.  Smell. 

3.  Sight. 

4.  Hearing. 

5.  Touch. 

6.  Ambition. 

7.  Friendship. 

8.  Love. 

!).  Domesticity. 

10.  Rivalry. 

11.  Concord. 

12.  Diversity. 


1 

)■  Sensative. 


Affective. 

Distributive. 


Of  these  twelve  radical  passions,  the  four  affective  are  the  car- 
dinal, like  the  four  notes  in  the  octave,  which  form  the  main  chords  ; 
the  three  distributive  answer  to  the  other  three  notes,  which  form 
the  subordinate  chords;  while  the  five  sensitive,  answer  to  the  five 
semi-tones,  which  complete  the  twelve  parts  of  the  chromatic 
scale.* 

Such,  then,  are  the  elements  of  human  nature,  such  the  mate- 
rials with  which  society  has  to  be  constructed ; we  can  now  pro- 
ceed, therefore,  to  discover  the  orgamzation  of  social  life.  Hu- 
manity is  at  present  like  a splendid  organ,  entirely  out  of  tune. 
Harmony  exists  not,  for  each  man  is  individualized  in  his  interests, 
and  stands  in  a kind  of  antagonism  to  all  the  rest.  Moral  purity 
exists  not ; for  the  passions  not  having  their  natural  sphere  of 
action,  become  contorted  or  extravagant,  and  lead  into  every 
species  of  crime.  Happiness  and  liberty  exist  not ; for  of  what 
use  is  it  to  have  freedom  inscribed  upon  the  parchments  of  the 
empire,  when  the  man  is  a slave  to  a labor,  which  is  totally  at 


* Vid.  Solidarita  p.  47. 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


587 


variance  with  his  tastes  and  attractions  ? For  the  passions  to 
exist  in  a state  of  harmony  and  equilibrium,  society  must  be  con- 
structed on  rational  and  philosophical  principles ; each  attraction 
must  have  its  satisfaction,  and  the  tendency  to  vice  must  be  re- 
pelled, and  overcome,  not  by  punishment  and  restraint,  but  by  the 
happiness  each  man  will  find  in  following  out  his  proper  destination. 

A community  of  400  fsmilies,  comprehending  about  1800  souls, 
is  considered  by  Fourier  sufficient  to  carry  out  his  plan  of  society. 
Such  a community  he  terms  a Phalange,  and  the  palace  in  which 
they  reside  a Phalanstere.  The  Phalange  is  to  be  built  in  a pe- 
culiar form,  containing  dwelling-houses  of  different  sizes,  gardens, 
workshops,  and  everything  necessary  for  the  conduct  of  social  life. 
It  is  to  stand  in  the  centre  of  an  area  of  about  a league  square, 
which  is. to  be  cultivated  for  the  benefit  of  the  community.  The 
cattle,  fruit,  flowers,  &c.,  which  are  reared  on  the  estate,  will  sup- 
ply the  five  senses  with  objects  of  satisfaction,  and  administer  to 
the  physical  necessities  of  the  inhabitants.  Next,  the  affective  pas- 
sions are  to  be  consulted.  Friendships  will  be  formed  between 
those  who  have  a natural  attraction  for  each  other,  uninfluenced 
by  the  sordid  motives  which  society  now  presents.  Ambition  will 
find  an  ample  field  for  exertion,  and  men  will  unite  into  groups  to 
carry  out  their  plans.  Love  will  unite  the  sexes  in  perfect  har- 
mony, when  all  selfish  interests  in  the  shape  of  property,  &c.,  cease 
to  be  consulted.  And,  lastly,  the  family  circle  wdll  have  all  its 
charms  without  its  anxieties  and  its  cares.  Such  will  be  the  pri- 
mary grouping  of  mankind,  wdien  these  affections  are  left  to  their 
natural  play. 

But  now  the  distributive  passions  will  come  into  play.  Men  have 
different  tastes.  Some  will  follow  agriculture,  some  gardening,  some 
commerce,  some  domestic  duties,  while  others  will  choose  education, 
literature,  science,  or  religion,  as  their  favorite  employment.  Every 
man  will  be  at  liberty  to  enter  whatever  group  he  pleases,  or  to 
change  his  occupation  as  often  as  he  may  desire ; but  assuredly,  as 
every  man  finds  his  happiness  alone  in  activity,  he  will  do  something, 
where  everything  lies  open  to  his  choice.  Some  will  be  incited  by 
rivalry,  others  by  sympathy,  while  all  may  enjoy  variety.  The 
property  of  the  community  will  consist  of  capital,  labor,  talent. 
These  will  all  be  rewarded  proportionally  to  their  value  ; the  whole 
community  will  partake  of  the  benefit  of  what  each  member  affords 
and  a state  of  harmony  will  ensue,  which,  while  it  gives  employ- 
ment and  support  to  all,  will  excite  all  to  emulation,  and  give  a 


5S8 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


stimulus  to  commerce,  science,  and  literature,  such  as,  under  the 
present  state  of  things,  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  realize.  Diversity 
of  rank  there  must  ever  be ; for  while  there  is  harmony  in  nature, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  equality.  Every  man,  however,  will  have 
the  opportunity  of  realizing  wealth,  honor,  esteem,  and  even  power* 
exactly  in  proportion  to  his  talent  and  his  industry. 

It  is  vain  for  us  to  attempt  entering  into  the  details  of  the  Phal- 
ansterian  community.  Doubtless  they  must  appear  very  utopian, 
as  here  described  ; but  the  genius  and  benevolence  of  the  author  of 
the  system,  certainly  afford  good  reason  for  giving  an  attentive  ear 
to  his  suggestions,  since  much  may  often  be  learned  even  from  a 
theory  which  appears  to  be  only  dictated  by  the  boldest  enthu- 
siasm. 

Fourier,  to  complete  his  philosophy,  carried  his  principles  at 
length  into  the  highest  regions  of  human  thought.  Under  the  title 
of  “ Cosmogony,”  he  pushed  his  researches  into  the  spiritual  nature 
of  man,  showing  his  unity  with  God,  and  with  the  universe  at  large. 
Under  the  title  of  “Universal  Analogy,”  he  attempted  to  carry  his 
laws  of  harmony  into  the  various  realms  of  nature ; and  thus  to 
make  discoveries  which,  to  the  method  of  induction,  would  have 
been  forever  impossible.  Some  of  his  school  are  now  carrying  on 
similar  researches,  and  applying  the  numerical  laws  we  have  re- 
ferred to,  to  the  questions  of  physiology,  language,  and  religion. 
Having  just  indicated,  however,  the  main  principles  of  his  system, 
as  a philosophy,  we  must  be  content  to  point  out  the  works  by 
which  our  readers  may  enter,  if  they  choose,  into  the  details  of  the 
Phalansterian  doctrines.* 

Many  of  Fourier’s  doctrines  upon  cosmogony,  upon  the  spiritual 
body  in  man,  upon  metempsychosis,  upon  the  details  of  universal 
analogy,  are,  we  believe,  regarded,  even  by  many  of  his  followers, 
as  extravagant  and  theosophic.  It  should  be  remembered,  however, 
that  he  only  put  them  forward  as  speculations,  not  as  scientific  facts. 
What  he  regards  alone  as  strictly  scientific,  is  his  analysis  of  human 
nature,  and  his  theory  of  social  organization.  On  these  subjects, 
however,  there  are  some  points  very  unsatisfactory.  His  doctrine 
of  evil,  though  containing  some  truth,  is  far  from  probing  the  mis- 
chief to  its  centre.  There  is  a perturbation  in  human  nature  which 

* The  student  of  Fourier  should  begin  by  some  of  the  simpler  writings  of  the  school, 
as  the  “ Exposition  Abregee,”  of  M.  Considerant.  He  will  be  highly  interested  by  M. 
Cantagrel’s  Dialogues,  entitled  “ Le  Fou  du  Palais  Royal  ” The  best  synthetical 
view  of  the  system,  is  that  entitled  “ Solidarite,”  by  M.  Renaud.  After  these  works, 
he  may  proceed  to  the  writings  of  Fourier  himself,  particularly  the  “ Nouveau  Monde 
Industriel.”  A life  of  Fourier  has  been  written  by  M.  Charles  Pellarin. 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


589 


needs  a Divine  cure,  before  holiness  and  happiness  can  result  from 
its  being  left  to  the  play  of  its  natural  attractions.  I know  we 
must  separate,  as  Bishop  Butler  does,  between  the  original  consti- 
tution of  man  by  God,  and  his  superadded  sinful  tendencies ; but 
those  tendencies  demand  something  more  potent  than  a Phalan- 
stere,  to  bring  the  heart  right,  and  purify  the  conscience.  Till  this 
is  done,  society  may  present  an  outward  paradise,  but  there  will  be 
all  the  elements  of  hell  itself  within  the  soul.  Another  point  that 
wants  great  consideration  is  the  analysis  of  the  passions.  If  that 
be  imperfect,  the  credit  of  the  whole  system  is  broken  down.  But 
we  are  not  yet  prepared  to  admit  that  the  science  of  human  nature 
has  been  at  once  begun  and  completed  in  the  person  of  Fourier. 
That  he  merits  the  title  of  great  genius  and  great  philanthropy, 
must  be  admitted ; but  he  has  added  only  his  portion  to  the  noble 
edifice  of  human  science.  Much  that  he  has  written  will  pass 
away  into  oblivion  ; but  the  truth  he  uttered  (and  he  uttei'ed  much) 
will  mingle  up  with  the  mass  of  our  knowledge,  when  the  system, 
as  a whole,  has  vanished  forever,  like  a splendid  dream. 

In  the  above  sketches  of  St.  Simon  and  Fourier,  we  have  given 
the  two  main  social  systems  of  modern  times.  As  schools  of  phi- 
losophy, they  are  both  marked  by  the  use  that  is  made  of  the  his- 
torical element.  Both  have  regarded  mankind  as  being  in  a state 
of  perpetual  progress  ; and  it  is  this  idea  of  progress  (one  which  is 
also  shared  by  the  Eclectic  school)  which  has  given  a distinctive 
feature  to  every  system,  that  has  aimed  primarily  at  illustrating  the 
philosophy  of  social  life.  On  the  contrary,  the  theological  school 
we  have  described  under  the  title  of  Scepticism,  advocating,  for 
the  most  part,  the  doctrines  of  absolute  power,  have  rejected  the 
idea  of  progress,  as  involving  all  the  errors  of  pantheism  in  theol- 
ogy, and  radicalism  in  politics  ; and  maintained  the  existence  of  a 
fixed  and  unalterable  standard  of  eternal  truth. 

There  is  a class  of  writers,  however,  which  take  their  stand 
midway  between  these  two  ideas.  Convinced,  on  the  one  hand, 
of  the  reality  of  human  progress,  still  they  recognize  the  existence 
of  a body  of  traditional  truth,  which  has  come  down  upon  the 
stream  of  time,  from  the  earliest  ages  to  the  present  day.  Of  these 
writers,  some  regard  the  traditionary  element  as  being  the  univer- 
sal consent  of  mankind,  of  whatever  period  or  of  whatever  relig- 
ion ; others,  on  the  contrary,  regard  it  as  belonging  more  particu- 
larly to  the  Christian  revelation,  either  in  its  preparatory  forms  or 
its  subsequent  development ; but  both  unite  in  recognizing  the  re- 


590 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ality  of  progress  as  the  law  of  human  nature.  The  former  of 
these  scliools  is  represented  by  M.  Pierre  Leroux  ; the  latter,  by 
M.  Buchez. 

M.  Pierre  Leroux  was  one  of  the  ardent  and  aspiring  minds 
who  studied  first  in  the  school  of  St.  Simon.  In  1824  he  became 
one  of  the  originators  and  first  editors  of  “ The  Globe  and  it 
was  probably  owing  to  his  influence,  that  that  remarkable  journal 
savored  for  some  time  so  strongly  of  the  St.  Simonian  doctrines. 
Since  the  disappearance  of  St.  Simonism,  M.  Leroux  has  assumed 
an  independent  position,  attempting  to  centre  in  himself,  as  far  as 
possible,  the  results  of  the  eclectic  psychology,  the  traditional  ele- 
ment of  the  catholic  philosophy,  and  the  historical  speculations  of 
the  sociologists — a position  truly  of  no  little  difficulty,  but  one 
which  his  metaphysical  acumen,  and  his  universal  leaiming,  emi- 
nently qualified  him  to  assume. 

About  the  year  1833  he  commenced,  in  conjunction  with  M. 
Renaud,  the  composition  of  the  “ Encyclopedie  Nouvelle,”  (as  yet 
incomplete,)  in  which  many  of  his  philosophical  and  religious  opin- 
ions are  somewhat  fully  developed.  Since  then,  there  have  ap- 
peared from  his  pen,  a “ Refutation  de  I’Eclecticisme,”  in  which  he 
has  attempted  to  develop  the  true  idea  of  philosophy  ; an  “ Essai 
sur  I’Egalite,”  in  which  he  defines  and  illustrates  the  modern  notion 
of  humanity,  as  being  one  united  organization  of  labor  and  inter- 
est ; a little  treatise  entitled  “ De  la  Doctrine  du  Progres  Continu,” 
and,  finally,  an  elaborate  work  “ De  rHumanite,  de  son  Principe, 
et  de  son  Avenir.”*  It  is  from  this  last  work,  as  being  the  resume 
of  his  former  opinions,  that  I shall  give  the  following  account  of 
his  philosophical  stand-point. 

The  great  object  of  M.  Leroux’s  philosophy  is  Man.  It  attempts 
to  determine  what  he  is,  what  is  his  destination,  what  his  rights, 
what  his  duties,  and  what  his  law.  The  psychological  schools  of 
philosophy  since  Descartes  have  labored  at  these  questions,  but 
labored  unsuccessfully.  Their  point  of  departure  has  always  been 
the  me ; in  this  they  have  expected  to  find  all  truth  embodied ; to 
the  individual  reason  they  have  applied  for  the  solution  of  every 
fundamental  problem.  To  say  that  their  labors  have  been  alto- 
gether vain,  would  be  incorrect,  for  many  results  have  been  gath- 
ered up  on  the  way  ; but  still  they  have  totally  failed  of  getting 
upon  any  solid  ground,  or  of  educing  any  satisfactory  result. 

* M.  Leroux  is  also  united  with  Mad.  Dudevant  in  the  editorship  of  the  “ Revue 
Indcpendant.” 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


591 


What,  in  fact,  is  the  me,  what  is  the  individual  reason  ? A mere 
abstraction,  a fiction  of  philosophy,  which  has  no  real  existence."^ 
No  man  can  regard  self  an  independent  creation,  containing  an, 
independent  revelation  of  truth.  Every  separate  mind,  and  every 
individual  reason,  only  exists  as  part  of  a vast  whole,  as  a link  in 
that  great  series,  the  totality  of  which  ,we  call  humanity.  The 
thoughts,  feelings,  beliefs,  principles,  which  each  man  recognizes 
in  himself,  do  not  spring  up  originally  in  his  individual  mind  ; he 
receives  them  as  a part  of  the  universal  truth  of  mankind.  Had 
he  lived  earlier,  he  would  have  had  other  thoughts  ; those  who  live 
later,  will  have  others  again.  The  me,  then,  or  the  individual  man, 
must  hold  a very  subordinate  place  in  the  investigations  of  philos- 
ophy ; the  great  point  is  to  study  mankind,  to  know  what  it  has 
been,  what  it  is,  what  it  will  be  hereafter. 

This  investigation,  according  to  M.  Leroux,  all  comes  under  the 
science  of  life.  The  individual  reason  may  discover  formal  or 
mathematical  truth ; but  to  study  man,  we  must  cast  our  gaze 
upon  the  whole  flow'  of  human  life  ; and  here  only  can  we  make 
discoveries  which  can  be  of  any  value  as  elucidating  his  nature 
and  destination.  The  origin  of  humanity  lies  beyond  our  reach, 
the  end  lies  equally  beyond  it.  All  we  see  is  a certain  number  of 
links  in  the  centre  of  a series,  of  which  we  know  neither  the  com- 
mencement nor  termination,  and  these  form  the  whole  material  of 
our  scientific  research.  The  direct  object  of  philosophy,  therefore, 
is  to  gain  a complete  view  of  the  catholic  tradition  of  mankind,  so 
far  as  history  can  reach  ; secondly,  to  determine  its  progress  in  the 
past ; and,  thirdly,  from  this  to  deduce  its  continued  progress  for 
the  futui'e.f 

M.  Leroux  having  thus  explained  the  nature  and  objects  of  phi- 
losophy, takes  the  individual  man  as  his  starting  point,  and  as  being 
to  us  the  necessary  link  with  humanity  at  large.  And  what  is  the 
individual  man  ? A being  alone  in  time  and  space,  isolated  from 
all  the  other  creation  ? Is  he  an  animal  only  ? or  is  he  a soul  ? 
None  of  these  definitions  or  ideas  will  come  near  the  truth.  What 
shall  we  say  then  ? “ L’homme  n’est  ni  une  ame,  ni  un  animal ; 

I’homme  est  un  animal  transforme  par  la  raison,  et  uni  a I’hu- 
manite.”J  The  ancients  defined  man  as  a social  and  political 
animal,  and  so  far  they  were  correct ; but  history  since  then  has 
taught  us  more.  It  has  taught  us  that  man  is  perfectible,  that  so- 

• '■  De  rHumanite,”  p,  113.  t Vid.  “ Da  la  Doct.  du  Progres  Humain.’* 

^ “ De  rHumanite,”  p.  120. 


5S)2 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ciety  is  perfectible,  that  the  human  race  is  perfectible.  It  lias 
taught  us  that  by  social  combination  the  evils  of  the  world  may  be 
overcome,  that  all  the  antagonism  of  society  may  cease,  and  that  the 
interests  of  all  may  become  solidified  in  the  very  structure  of  social 
life.  This  alone  can  bring  about  human  happiness,  and  this  has 
been  the  very  point  to  which  society  is  ever  tending.  “ Yes,”  ex- 
claims our  author,  “ Plato  says  truly — Vfe  gravitate  to  God,  attracted 
by  him  who  is  the  sovereign  beauty,  by  the  loving  and  rational 
instinct  of  our  nature.  But  just  as  the  bodies  placed  on  the  sur- 
face of  our  earth  do  only  gravitate  towards  the  sun  all  together, 
and  as  the  attraction  of  the  earth  is,  so  to  say,  only  the  centre  of 
their  mutual  attraction  ; so  we  gravitate  spii’itually  to  God,  by  the 
intervention  of  humanity.”*  Such  is  the  compendium  of  .the 
whole  history  of  philosophy. 

In  prosecution  of  these  views,  M.  Leroux  has  devoted  himself 
with  great  ardor  and  learning  to  historical  research.  He  has  in- 
vestigated the  relics  of  ancient  tradition,  labored  to  gather  up  the 
testimony  of  mankind  in  all  ages  upon  the  idea  of  God,  of  immor- 
tality, and  a future  life  ; and  attempted  to  show  that  Christianity 
is  the  regular  development  of  the  catholic  truth  of  the  world  upon 
these  points.  As,  however,  the  law  of  progress  still  remains  in 
force,  the  conceptions  of  Christianity  will  give  way  to  a more  per- 
fect I’eligion.  What  the  future  will  be  we  are  at  present  ignorant ; 
but  we  are  laboring  for  it.  The  tradition  of  Europe  will  be  handed 
down  to  the  next  generation,  and  as  is  ever  the  case,  the  science 
of  the  present  will  become  the  basis  of  the  religion  of  the  future. 

Such  are  the  main  ideas  of  the  philosophy  now  under  review. 
Like  the  system  of  St.  Simon  and  of  Fourier,  it  looks  only  upon 
the  more  outward  features  of  human  nature  ; expects  the  creation 
of  a state  of  earthly  bliss  from  the  improved  arrangements  of  hu- 
man society ; passes  by  the  real  elements  of  evil  and  of  suffering 
which  lie  deep  in  the  core  of  the  human  heart ; and,  in  conse- 
quence, mistakes  the  whole  nature,  genius,  purport,  grandeur, 
and  divinity  of  Christianity.  So  far  as  such  speculations  bear 
upon  social  life,  they  assume  a genial,  a benevolent,  and  a bene- 
ficial aspect ; they  teach  us  what  Christianity  has  taught  them — 
the  principles  of  charity,  peace,  and  human  brotherhood.  But  they 
comprehend  not  the  deep  philosophy  of  the  Christian  revelation, 
which  aims  at  the  regeneration  of  society,  only  through  the  regen- 
eration of  the  human  soul.  In  brief,  neither  of  the  three  systems 


De  I'Humanite,”  p.  120. 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCK. 


593 


we  have  reviewed,  can  be  honestly  cleared  of  the  charge  of  ’pan- 
theism ; and  hence  they  virtually  involve  the  fatalistic  conclusions 
to  which  all  pantheism  inevitably  leads. 

M.  Buchez,  like  Pierre  Leroux,  had  his  philosophical  ability  first 
awakened  in  the  school  of  St.  Simon,  and,  like  him  also,  has  fcince 
its  disruption  assumed  an  independent  position.  Like  all  the  minds 
which  received  their  first  impulse  from  the  doctrines  of  sociology, 
he  has  taken  his  stand  upon  the  idea  of  human  progress,  and 
sought  for  the  solution  of  his  philosophical  problems  from  the  phe- 
nomena of  history.  In  his  “ Essai  d’un  Traite  de  Philosophie,”  he 
attempted  to  explain  every  great  philosophical  question  from  a 
moral  point  of  view,  considering  that  they  find  here  their  most 
satisfactory  solution.  It  is,  however,  in  his  “ Introduction  a la 
Science  de  I’Histoire,”  that  he  has  pursued  his  own  peculiar  doc- 
trines with  the  greatest  fulness  and  originality. 

In  the  prolegomena  to  that  work,  he  begins  by  giving  a picture 
of  the  evils  under  which  mankind  is  now  groaning,  and  shows  that 
it  is  the  province  of  history  to  reveal  the  real  function  of  human 
society.  In  the  first  book  he  enters  at  once  upon  the  science  of 
history,  which  is  defined  to  be  “ that  which  enables  us  to  see  the 
oocial  future  of  the  human  race  in  the  order  of  its  free  activity.” 
This  science  turns  upon  two  ideas : 1.  That  of  humanity,  and 
2.  That  o^ progress.  Humanity,  philosophically  viewed,  is  the  func- 
tion of  universal  order,  the  highest  expression  of  the  Divine  ideas. 
Progress  is  the  law  of  universal  order,  a process  in  the  nature  of 
man  analogous  to  that  which  we  see  in  every  part  of  the  whole 
creation. 

The  second  book  brings  us  to  the  method  in  which  the  science 
of  history  is  to  be  pursued.  A valid  science  may  be  said  in  any 
case  to  exist,  when  we  have  so  far  discovered  the  law  of  the  case, 
as  to  foresee  the  future  with  precision  and  certainty.  This  leads 
to  a very  full  and  acute  discussion  of  the  law  of  the  generation  of 
social  facts,  in  the  determination  of  which  he  has  brought  to  his  aid 
the  notion  of  progress,  the  logical  development  of  ideas,  and  the 
tendential  movements  of  society. 

The  third  book  is  on  social  constants,  those  great  features  of 
humanity  which  remain  ever  the  same  amidst  the  perpetual  changes 
of  human  opinion.  These  refer  to  morals — the  Divine  law  of  our 
free  activity  to  art,  to  science,  and  to  labor. 

The  fourth  book  is  one  of  great  interest ; referring  to  the  affilia- 
tion of  all  the  different  branches  of  human  knowledge,  and  showing 

38 


594 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


how  the  idea  of  progress  maybe  made  the  basis  of  a complete- En- 
cyclopiedic  arrangement  of  them. 

The  fifth  book  is  occupied  with  speculations  on  the  origin  and 
natural  liistory  of  the  globe  we  inhabit,  while  the  last  two  books, 
entitled  “ Androgenic,”  discuss  the  creation  of  man  and  the  differ- 
ent revelations  by  wliich  he  has  been  instructed  by  God,  and  ren- 
dered fit  for  the  high  destiny  to  which  he  has  been  called. 

This  may  give  a general  idea  of  the  plan  and  the  purport 
which  M.  Buchez  has  kept  before  him  in  this  remarkable  work. 
While  on  the  one  side  the  idea  of  progress  is  his  guiding  star,  yet 
it  is  evident,  from  his  general  style  of  remark,  that  he  has  been  led 
near  to  the  Catholic  doctrines  of  Christianity,  and  finds  in  them  the 
germ  of  all  the  notions  which  it  is  the  aim  of  philosophy  to  evolve 
from  the  phenomena  of  universal  history.  The  method  of  philo- 
sophical investigation  thus  determined,  has  been  pursued  by  several 
other  writers  of  considerable  ability.  M.  J.  F.  A.  Boulland  has 
folllowed  it  up  by  an  “Essai  d’Histoire  Universelle,  ou  Expose 
comparatif  des  Traditions  de  tons  les  Peuples,”  and  a similar  work, 
entitled  “Histoires  des  Transformations  Religieuses  et  Morales  des 
Peoples. ” Dr.  Ott  also,  to  whom  we  have  before  referred  as  a 
commentator  upon  Hegel,  has  joined  himself  to  this  school  in  his 
“Manuel  d’Histoire  Universelle.” 

The  only  additional  author  we  shall  notice  as  belonging  to  the 
modern  school  of  French  mysticism,  is  M.  Ballanche.  This  volu- 
minous writer  was  born  at  Lyons,  in  1776,  and  during  the  first 
twenty  years  of  his  life  was  the  almost  constant  prey  of  the  most 
painful  afflictions.  Endowed  by  nature  with  a mind  of  high  sensi- 
bility, warmed  by  the  rays  of  a vivid  imagination,  and  chastened 
in  spirit  by  the  cup  of  suffering,  M.  Ballanche  gradually  developed 
a character  of  singular  excellence  and  beauty.  During  his  earlier 
years  of  literary  activity,  he  devoted  himself  almost  entirely  to 
poetry,  or  the  higher  order  of  sentimental  prose  composition  ; but 
about  the  time  of  the  Restoration,  he  was  led,  probably  by  the  po- 
litical circumstances  of  the  country,  into  the  region  of  philosophical 
thinking.  Besides  the  prolegomena  to  some  of  his  poetical  writings, 
he  has  developed  his  views  on  the  philosophy  of  society  in  two 
distinct  works,  the  one  entitled  an  “ Essai  sur  les  Institutions  So- 
ciales,”  the  other  entitled  “ La  Palingenesie  Sociale.” 

In  the  former  of  these  works  he  treads  in  the  footsteps  of  M.  de 
Bonald,  regarding  language  as  a primitive  revelation  from  God, 
and  containing  the  primary  germs  of  all  truth.  To  this  theory  of 


MYSTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


595 


M.  de  Bonald,  however,  he  has  appended  the  idea  of  progress.  The 
primitive  tradition,  couched  in  words,  presented  truth  in  a very- 
material  and  symbolical  form,  and  it  was  only  preserved  and  spread 
by  the  ancient  myths  and  poems,  by  which  the  early  tribes  handed 
down  their  wisdom  from  age  to  age.  After  a time,  writing  was 
invented.  Truth  now  became,  as  it  were,  embalmed  in  signs ; and 
just  in  proportion  as  it  lost  its  character  of  poetic  inspiration,  it 
gained  in  reflective  clearness  and  certainty.  Now,  truth  is  not 
only  spoken  and  written,  but  is  also  printed.  Here,  again,  it  is 
held  up  still ‘more  distinctly  to  the  contemplation  of  the  reason, 
which  still  struggles  on  to  comprehend  the  ideas  which  lie  about  it, 
and  will  continue  to  do  so  till  it  brings  them  into  the  broad  daylight 
of  a philosophical  deduction.  The  great  mission  of  thdse  ages  in 
which  we  live,  is  so  to  interpret  the  revelation  which  we  have  in 
the  Christian  tradition,  that  it  may  mould  all  the  features  of  human 
society,  and  bring  humanity  to  a state  of  purity  and  peace. 

The  “ Palingenesie  Sociale”  also  advocates  a primitive  revela- 
tion, and  shows  how  man  has  departed  from  his  original  state  of 
purity,  the  golden  age  of  the  poets,  into  a state  of  sin  and  conse- 
•quent  suffering.  The  plan  of  God,  developed  through  the  ages,  is 
to  restore  man  to  his  original  state,  to  perfect  him  by  means  of  the 
perfection  of  his  social  institutions,  until  the  law  of  the  Gospel  be- 
comes the  law  of  the  whole  world. 

“ Then  shall  the  reign  of  mind  begin  on  earth, 

And,  starting  forth  as  from  a second  birth, 

Man,  in  the  sunshine  of  the  world’s  new  spring. 

Shall  walk  transparent  like  some  holy  thing.”  • 

Thus  we  see  M.  Ballanche  holds  the  balance  almost  evenly  be- 
tween the  theological  school  of  De  Maistre  and  Bonald  on  the  one 
side,  and  between  the  progression — and  perfectionists  on  the  other. 
“ He  is,  in  fact,”  remarks  M.  Damiron,  “ of  the  same  faith  as  M.  de 
Maistre,  but  of  altogether  different  feelings ; having  greater  tender- 
ness for  his  brethren,  greater  sympathies,  and  better  hopes.  If  he 
has  not  indeed  the  wing  of  the  eagle,  still  he  is  without  its  stern 
look,  its  pitiless  cry,  its  thunder  ever  ready  to  strike.  In  a region 
less  high,  but  more  serene  and  calm,  he  goes  like  the  dove,  scatter- 
ing ever  on  his  way  sentiments  which  do  not  trouble,  and  words 
which  console.  In  his*  eyes  humanity  is  not  destined  never  to  be 
good  except  by  fractions,  to  have  eternally  its  plebeians  and  pa- 
tricians, its  weak  and  strong,  its  righteous  and  wicked  ; from  day 
to  day  it  will  extend  the  circle  of  its  influence,  and  will  evangelize 


596 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  multitude,  and  at  last  will  be  entirely  good  and  happy.”*  Such, 
according  to  M.  Ballanche,  is  the  origin  of  truth,  as  far  as  man  is 
concerned  ; such  is  its  republication,  such  its  progress,  and  such  its 
final  issue. 


Sect.  III. — Modern  Mysticism  in  Germany. 

Germany  is  a country  in  which  mysticism  has  ever  found  a 
somewhat  congenial  resting  place.  Religious  mysticfism,  for  ex- 
ample, has  often  exhibited  there  some  of  its  most  remarkable 
phases.  Even  Luther  himself,  the  great  religious  hero  of  the  coun- 
try, may  be'  said  to  have  shown  a decided  tendency  to  it  in  several 
features  of  his  character ; and  modern  times  have  not  wanted  in- 
stances still  more  marked  and  decisive.  It  is  not  our  intention, 
however,  to  dwell,  even  for  a moment,  upon  the  purely  religious 
mysticisms  of  Germany,  as  this  would  carry  us  too  far  from  the  pro- 
posed object  of  the  present  history  ; our  purpose  will  be  simply  to 
delineate,  as  clearly  as  possible,  the  philosophical  mysticism  which 
that  country  has  originated  during  the  present  century.  This 
course  is  rendered  the  more  satisfactory,  because  philosophy  and 
theology,  in  Germany,  more  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  world, 
delight  to  go  hand  in  hand ; so  that  mysticism  in  religion,  as  it  ex- 
ists there,  is  for  the  most  part  but  the  application  of  philosophical 
mysticism  to  theological  questions. 

In  describing  any  particular  department  of  the  modern  philos- 
ophy of  Germany,  v/e  must  always  revert  to  the  Kantian  period, 
as  that  from  which  it  has  taken  either  its  origin  or  its  chief  tenden- 
cies. In  order  to  carry  our  readers  back,  then,  for  a moment,  to 
that  period,  we  would  remind  them,  that  Kantism  contained  in  it 
a twofold  element.  On  the  one  hand,  Kant  admitted  the  objective 
validity  of  our  sense-perceptions  ; and  herein  consisted  his  realism  : 
on  the  other  hand,  he  made  all  the  peculiar  features  of  these  per- 
ceptions dependent  upon  the  subjective  laws  of  our  own  under- 
standing ; and  herein  consisted  his  idealism.  The  expansion  of  the 
idealistic  element  we  have  followed  through  the  writings  of  Fichte, 
Schelling,  Hegel,  and  the  respective  schools  to  which  they  gave 
rise ; the  realistic  element,  on  the  contrary " was  that  upon  which 
Jacobi  linked  his  speculations,  and  from  which  he  originated  his 
profound  system  of  philosophical  mysticism.  It  is  from  this  system 

* Damiron’s  “ Histoire  de  Phil.”  vol.  ii.  p.  368. 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


597 


that  all  the  German  mysticism  of  the  nineteenth  century,  which  is 
worthy  of  notice,  has  regularly  flowed. 

Frederick  Henry  Jacobi  was  born  at  Diisseldorf,  on  the  25th  of 
January,  1743.  In  the  eighteenth  year  of  his  age  he  went  to  Ge- 
neva, and  studied  under  some  of  the  most  celebrated  professors  in 
the  different  departments  of  mathematics,  medicine,  and  philosophy. 
On  his  return  to  Diisseldorf,  his  first  object  was  to  devote  himself 
to  the  mercantile  profession  ; but  being  soon  after  appointed  to  an 
office  under  government,  he  gave  himself  up  for  the  most  part  to 
public  affairs,  residing  at  a country-seat  at  Pempelfort,  and  occupy- 
ing his  leisure  hours  in  philosophical  researches.  Metaphysical 
speculation  was  always  his  favorite  employment — an  employment, 
too,  which,  far  from  viewing  as  a mere  amusement,  he  entered  into 
with  the  most  intense  earnestness.*  Prompted  by  his  love  for 
philosophy,  and  justified  by  his  position  in  society,  he  entered  into 
extensive  correspondence  with  many  of  the  first  scholars  and 
writers  of  the  age ; and  this  fact,  perhaps,  may  in  some  measure 
account  for  the  wide  and  rapid  influence  of  his  literary  pro- 
ductions. 

As  an  author,  it  was  never  Jacobi’s  intention  to  develop  any 
connected  system  of  philosophy ; his  works  are  all  of  a brief  and 
somewhat  temporary  character  (Gelegenheits  schriften),  to  which 
he  was  impelled  by  circumstances,  rather  than  induced  by  the  sys- 
tematic development  of  his  speculative  opinions,  f 

His  first  publication  consisted  of  a series  of  letters  on  Spinoza, 
addressed  to  his  friend  Moses  Mendelssohn  (1785).  To  this  Men- 
delssohn replied,  and  thus  drew  forth  from  Jacobi  a second  publica- 
tion, intended  to  establish  his  statements  respecting  both  the  fatalism 
and  atheism  of  Spinoza’s  principles,  and  to  vindicate  the  assertion 
he  had  made,  that  every  system  of  logical  dogmatism  inevitably 
tends  to  the  same  point.  In  the  next  year  (1786),  Jacobi  wrote  a 
treatise,  entitled  David  Hume — on  Faith,  or  Idealism  and  Realism’^ 
a treatise  which  we  may  compare  with  Reid’s  polemical  writings, 
taking  due  account  of  the  different  schools  to  which  the  Scottish 
and  the  German  opponent  of  scepticism  belonged.  The  immediate 
object  of  this  work,  however,  was  to  answer  the  outcry  which  had 
been  raised  against  him,  for  the  assertion  he  had  made,  that  all  our 
knowledge  must  rest  ultimately  upon  faith,  and  not  upon  reasoning. 
In  1799,  he  published  some  letters  to  Fichte,  in  which  he  opposed 

* It  is  recorded  that  the  perusal  of  Kant’s  tractate  on  the  proofs  for  the  being  of  a 
God,  produced  in  the  young  philosopher  the  most  violent  palpitation  of  the  heart. 

•f  “ Werke,”  vol.  iv.  Preface. 


698 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  “empty  formalism”  of  his  philosophy;  another  treatise,  “On 
Divine  Things,”  and  various  articles  in  the  philosophical  journals, 
complete  the  list  of  his  strictly  metaphysical  labors.  A perfect  edi- 
tion of  Jacobi’s  works  in  six  volumes  was  published,  partly  from 
his  own  direction,  by  his  friend  Friedrich  Koppen,  containing,  be- 
sides the  above-mentioned  treatises,  two  philosophical  romances,  an 
interesting  selection  of  the  author’s  correspondence  with  Hamann, 
and  an  introduction  to  his  philosophy  by  the  editor. 

Jacobi  came  just  at  the  period  when  some  attempt  at  founding 
a mystical  philosophy  was  naturally  to  be  expected.  The  energetic 
idealism  of  Kant  had  swept  away,  after  a manful  struggle,  the  pre- 
tensions of  empiricism,  throughout  the  whole  country ; and,  not 
content  with  that,  had  given  a manifest  opening  to  the  revival  of 
a profound  scepticism,  such  as  we  have  already  noticed  in  Schulze. 
Sensationalism,  idealism,  and  scepticism,  therefore,  had  all  three 
been  engaged  in  the  struggle  to  which  the  giant  of  Konigsberg 
gave  occasion  ; and  now  mysticism  stepped  in  to  assert  its  claims 
also  to  the  reverence  and  the  confidence  of  mankind.  Hamann 
had,  some  time  before,  attempted  to  found  a system  of  faith-philos- 
ophy, and  Herder  to  graft  his  results  upon  the  metaphysics  of 
Locke ; but  it  was  Jacobi  who  first  brought  the  faith-philosophy 
into  repute,  and,  by  his  profound  genius,  as  well  as  elegant  taste, 
raised  it  to  a position,  in  which  it  was  enabled  to  contest  the 
supremacy  with  the  other  philosophies  of  the  age  and  country. 

One  of  the  first  things  we  observe  in  the  writings  of  Jacobi,  is 
his  deep-rooted  aversion  to  those  formal  rationalistic  systems  of 
metaphysics,  for  which  Germany,  especially,  had  been  famous. 
He  assailed  the  Wolfian  school,  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza,  and  all 
other  dogmatical  systems  of  a similar  kind,  with  a force  and  perse- 
verance amounting  almost  to  rancor.  To  comprehend  the  method 
of  this  opposition,  is  by  no  means  a difficult  matter.  All  knowl- 
edge, he  affirmed,  communicated  to  us  through  the  medium  of  the 
understanding,  (or  the  logical  faculty,)  must  be  of  a contingent 
character,  and  can  never  attain  the  marks  of  the  universal,  the  in- 
finite, the  purely  philosophical.  To  demonstrate  any  truth,  we 
must  infer  it  from  another,  that  lies  beyond  it ; this,  again,  from 
another  still  more  general ; and  so  on,  to  an  infinite  series.  The 
human  understanding,  therefore,  can  never  get  beyond  a series  of 
conditions;  it  can  never  rise  to  first  principles;  never  reach  that 
point  where  truth  is  known,  and  gazed  upon  by  a direct  intuition 
of  the  soul.  Hence,  he  shows  that  the  philosophy  which  is  grounded 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


599 


simply  on  the  understanding,  and  which  attempts  to  define  and  de- 
monstrate all  things,  necessarily  leads  to  fatalism.  The  philosophy 
of  Spinoza  he  regards  as  the  complete  type  of  these  demonstration- 
seeking systems — systems  which  can  never  really  transcend  the 
finite  and  the  conditioned — never  attain  to  the  absolute  and  real ; 
and,  consequently,  never  consistently  admit  a Deity,  except  in  that 
pantheistic  sense,  which  regards  God  as  the  totality  of  finite  and 
conditioned  existence. 

“ It  has  been,”  he  remarks,  “ since  the  time  of  Aristotle,  the  in- 
creasing striving  of  all  philosophical  schools,  to  make  immediate 
knowledge  secondary  to  mediate  ; to  make  the  original  perceptive 
capacity,  which  grasps  all  things  directly,  secondary  to  the  reflec- 
tive capacity,  which  is  conditioned  by  abstraction  ; to  make  the  pro- 
totype secondary  to  the  type — the  essence  to  the  definition — and 
intuition  to  understanding;  yea,  to  make  the  former  altogether 
vanish  in  the  latter.  Nothing  is  allowed  to  hold  good  by  these 
philosophers,  except  what  admits  of  being  proved,  yea,  twice 
proved,  by  turns,  in  the  intuition,  and  in  the  conception — in  the 
thing  itself,  and  in  its  image  or  its  name ; so  that  in  this  last  alone 
the  thing  itself  is  supposed  to  lie,  and  to  be  really  seen.”* 

To  these  kind  of  remarks,  the  dry  and  formal  definitions  of  the 
Leibnitzian-Wolfian  philosophy  had  certainly  given  abundant  oc- 
casion. It  seemed  to  be  imagined  by  the  adherents  of  that  school, 
that  no  sooner  could  anything  be  defined  by  the  rules  of  logic,  than 
its  whole  nature  was  determined.  Jacobi,  impressed  by  the  folly 
of  this  procedure,  opened  a campaign  against  all  dogmatical  sys- 
tems whatever,  and,  with  great  ingenuity,  drew  the  conclusion,  that 
a purely  demonstrative  philosophy,  as  it  has  no  first  principles  to 
rest  on,  must  lead  to  scepticism  and  absurdity. f 

The  philosophy  of  Kant  he  excepted  from  these  sweeping  ob- 
jections, although  he  did  not  consider  even  this  to  be  by  any  means 
fundamentally  sound.  He  admitted,  that  that  great  thinker  had 
effectually  opposed  the  dogmatical  systems  of  the  day ; that  he  had 
shown  their  futility,  in  his  theoretical  philosophy ; and  pointed  out 
the  road  to  truth,  in  his  practical:  but  still  he  objected  to  him, 
that,  having  once  admitted  the  validity  of  demonstration,  and,  by 
its  means,  having  undermined  the  arguments  on  which  our  belief 
in  God  and  immortality  rests,  he  could  not  consistently  restore  by 
his  practical  movement  what  he  had  destroyed  by  his  theoretical. 

♦ Michelet,  “ Geschichte  der  neuern  Syst.,'’  vol.  i.  p.  346.  See  also  Jacobi’s 
“ Werkc,”  vol.  i.  Introduction,  p.  11,  et  seq. 

■f  These  results  are  brought  out  with  great  force  in  the  “ Letters  on  Spinoza.” 


600 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


It  was  evident  to  him,  that  some  more  fundamental  principle  was 
wanting ; something  to  furnish  a basis  for  Kant’s  demonstrations, 
and  to  give  validity  to  his  practical  conclusions.*  This  principle, 
then,  he  asserted  to  be  faith — .the  direct  inward  revelation  of  truth 
to  the  human  mind.f 

The  true  idea,  then,  of  Jacobi’s  philosophy  lies'  here: — that  all 
human  knowledge,  of  whatever  description,  must  rest,  ultimately, 
on  faith  or  intuition.  As  it  regards  sensible  things,  the  understand- 
ing finds  the  impressions,  from  which  all  our  knowledge  of  the  ex- 
ternal world  flows,  ready  formed.  The  process  of  sensation  itself 
is  a mystery  ; we  know  nothing  of  it,  till  itself  is  past,  and  the  feel- 
ing it  produces  is  present.  Our  knowledge  of  matter,  therefore, 
must  rest  entirely  upon  our  faith  in  these  intuitions.  There  is, 
however,  another  and  a higher  species  of  faith  than  this.  Just  as 
sensation  gives  us  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  world,  so  there 
is  an  inward  sense — a rational  intuition — a spiritual  faculty — by 
which  we  have  a direct  and  immediate  revelation  of  supersensual 
things.  God,  providence,  freedom,  immortality,  moral  distinctions, 
&c. — these  are  things  which  come  not  to  us  by  demonstration. 
We  gaze  upon  them  by  the  inward  eye ; and  have  just  as  firm 
conviction  of  their  reality,  as  we  have  of  those  material . objects 
upon  which  we  look  with  the  bodily  eye.  It  is  by  this  twofold 
faith  or  revelation,  that  man  has  access  to  the  whole  material  of 
truth — material  which  his  understanding  afterwards  moulds  into 
various  shapes,  and  employs,  on  the  one  hand,  for  the  purposes  of 
this  life ; and,  on  the  other,  for  preparation  for  the  life  to  come. 
Leave  out,  however,  this  direct  inlet  to  our  knowledge,  and  all 
demonstration,  all  definition — in  short,  all  philosophy  is  but  a sport 
with  words ; a superstructure  sometimes  complete  enough  in  itself, 
but  baseless  as  the  most  airy  visions  of  the  imagination.! 

It  may  now  be  easily  seen,  how  Jacobi  linked  his  views  of  phi- 
losophy upon  the  realistic  principle  of  Kant.  Kant  admitted,  with- 
out proof,  the  reality  of  our  perceptions  : here,  then,  was  the  faith- 
principle  already  in  operation,  and  only  needed  some  additional 
fencing  against  the  encroachment  of  the  ideal  element,  to  give  it 

* “ Werke,”  vol.  ii.  p.  17.  et  seq. 

In  the  earlier  treatises  which  Jacohi  wrote,  (those  which  related  more  immediately 
to  Spinoza,)  he  made  constant  use  of  the  terms  Glaube  and  Offenbarung,  to  designate 
the  immediate  knowledge  we  gain  of  primary  truth,  in  opposition  to  that  which  is  logi^ 
caUn/  deduced.  The  use  of  these  expressions  first  drew  on  him  the  char,ge  of  mysti- 
cism ; but  it  is  right  to  point  out  the  fact,  that  he  afterwards  employed  the  term  Vern- 
Unft,  to  express  the  faculty  of  immediate  intuition,  which  he  had  before  explained  as  a 
revelaiion.  On  his  use  of  the  term  Vernunft,  see  “ Werke,”  vol.  ii.  pp.  55 — 81. 

I “ Werke,”  vol.  iv.  Die  Lehre  des  Spinoza,  Pt.  i. 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


601 


its  due  weight  and  importance.  While  Kant,  therefore,  supposed 
the  sense-perception  to  be  a subjectively  formed  phenomenon,  in 
which,  not  indeed  the  thing  itself  is  represented,  but  simply  the  ex- 
istence of  an  objective  reality  declared,  Jacobi  affirmed  the  object 
of  our  perceptions  or  of  our  faith,  to  be  a real  and  adequate  intui- 
tion of  the  outward  reality ; so  that  he  completely  fortified  this 
part  of  our  mental  constitution  against  the  sweeping  results  of  the 
rising  idealism.  He  showed,  in  brief,  that  in  every  perception  there 
is  something,  actual  present  (Princip  der  Thatsachlichkeit,)  which 
can  never  be  explained  away  into  the  operation  of  our  own  subjec- 
tive laws  and  faculties. 

From  this  principle  of  actuality  in  perception,  Jacobi  proceeded 
to  establish  the  same  with  reference  to  the  higher  perceptions  of 
the  reason.  Here,  too,  he  had  the  example  and  authority  of  Kant 
for  his  method  of  procedure.  Kant,  it  is  true,  in  his  Critick  of  pure 
Reason,  had  viewed  both  the  understanding  and  the  reason  as  sim- 
ply formal  or  logical  faculties,  from  which  no  actual  material  of 
knowledge  could  possibly  come  ; and,  on  this  ground,  he  removed 
the  notions  of  God,  of  the  soul,  of  substance,  &c.,  as  objective  reali- 
ties, beyond  the  bounds  of  philosophical  truth.  But  he  allowed  the 
validity  of  those  great  moral  conceptions  of  Deity,  of  immortality, 
and  of  rectitude,  which  come  to  us  through  the  medium  of  the  prac- 
tical reason.  To  the  latter  principle,  accordingly,  Jacobi  appealed. 
He  contended,  that  the  conclusions  of  the  practical  reason  were  as 
valid,  philosophically,  as  those  of  the  pure  reason  ; and  that  the  one 
was  as  much  the  organ  of  scientific  truth  as  the  other.  Following 
out  this  mode  of  argument,  he  was  led  to  view  reason  itself  (Vern- 
unft)  as  an  inward  sense — a direct  revelation  of  spiritual  things, 
upon  the  actuality  of  whose  intuitions  there  is  as  much  depend- 
ence to  be  placed  as  upon  those  of  the  senses. 

In  brief,  Jacobi,  at  a time  when  idealism  seemed  preparing  to 
sweep  away  all  the  great  and  recognized  boundaries  of  human 
knowledge,  stood  forth  as  the  apostle  of  realism — a realism  which 
rested  upon  faith  in  our  direct  intuition  of  truth,  whether  human 
or  divine.  “ He  showed,”  says  Chalybaus,  “that  there  is  something 
more  in  our  soul,  than  a dead  and  empty  mechanism  of  logical 
thinking  and  shadowy  representations  ; he  reassured  us  of  a deeper, 
and,  as  yet,  an  inviolable  treasure  in  the  human  spirit ; and,  al- 
though this  boon  be  hidden  in  the  sevenfold  veil  of  Isis,  yet  has  he 
powerfully  excited  us  to  the  investigation  of  it,  by  pointing  to  the 
reality  of  so  precious  a*  germ.  He  himself,  indeed,  thought,  (and 


602 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


herein  lies  his  mysticism,)  that,  if  we  would  not  sport  it  away,  we 
must  preserve  this  germ,  without  exercising  a sinful  curiosity  ; that 
it  happens  to  every  one,  who  ventures  to  enter  this  sanctuary  with 
the  torch  of  demonstrative  knowledge,  as  it  did  to  the  youth  before 
the  veiled  image  of  Sais ; for  that  every  complete  and  scientific 
demonstration  could  only  lead  to  Spinozism.”* 

Without  entering  more  particularly  into  the  details  of  Jacobi’s 
philosophy,  we  shall  conclude  our  remarks  upon  it  by  the  follow 
ing  beautiful  and  significant  passage  from  the  pen  of  Hegel : — 

“Jacobi,”  he  says,  “ is  like  a solitary  thinker,  who,  in  the  morn- 
ing of  his  day,  found  some  ancient  riddle,  hewn  upon  an  eternal 
rock.  He  believes  in  this  riddle,  but  he  strives  in  vain  to  guess  it. 
He  carries  it  about  with  him  the  whole  day,  allures  weighty  sen- 
timents from  it,  spreads  it  out  into  doctrines  and  images,  which 
delight  the  hearer,  and  inspire  him  with  noble  wishes  and  hopes; 
but  the  interpretation  fails  ; and  in  the  evening  he  lays  him  down, 
with  the  hope  that  some  divine  dream,  or  the  next  waking,  will 
pronounce  to  him  ‘ the  word’  for  which  he  longs,  and  on  which  he 
has  so  firmly  believed.”']' 

Jacobi’s  style  of  writing  is  so  chastely  poetical,  and  yet  so  phil- 
osophically accurate,  that  it  has  often  been  compared  to  that  of 
Plato,  and  is  regarded  by  many  as  a model  for  imitation.  As  a 
thinker,  too,  Jacobi  is  despised  by  none.  Even  the  Hegelians 
themselves,  so  severely  logical  in  their  theory,  and  so  supercilious 
towards  those  who  disagree  with  it,  have  repeatedly  acknowledged 
his  services  to  the  cause  of  philosophy.  From  Jacobi  we  must 
begin  to  date  the  introduction  of  a new  element  into  the  German 
metaphysics,  that  of  feeling ; an  element  which,  if  it  had  not  been 
before  altogether  disowned,  still  had  never  been  looked  upon  in  the 
same  manner  as  an  organ  of  truth.  J 

The  path,  however,  being  once  pointed  out,  a number  of  philo- 
sophical thinkers,  and  some  of  no  ordinary  character,  began  to 
discuss  more  fully  the  respective  claims  of  feeling  and  intelligence 
as  sources  of  human  knowledge.  The  relative  position  assigned 
to  each  was  very  different  in  the  different  systems  which  were 
now  propounded;  Some  placed  faith  or  feeling  in  the  foreground, 

* “ Entwickelung,”  p.  45. 

+ “ Vermischte  Schriften,”  vol.  i.  p.  20.3. 

j As  aids  to  understand  Jacobi’s  philosophy  aright,  the  student  may  consult  the  “ In- 
troduction,’’ printed  in  the  second  volume  of  his  works  ; Schlegel’s  “ Charakteristikin 
und  Kritiken Hegel’s  review  of  his  philosophy,  contained  in  his  Vermischte 
Schriften;”  Michelet’s  “ Geschichte,”  vol.  i.  p.  339;  and  Chalybiius’  “ Entwickelung,” 
Sec.  iii. 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


603 


as  Jacobi  most  decidedly  had  -done ; others  made  it  only  secondary. 
Some,  again,  tried  to  show  how  the  two  elements  co-operated 
efiually  in  the  creation  of  our  ideas  ; others,  to  prove  that  they 
both  flowed  from  the  same  fundamental  principle.  Of  these,  very 
few,  of  course,  could  be  strictly  termed  followers  of  Jacobi,  and 
even  those  few  kept  by  no  means  close  to  their  master ; the  ma- 
jority had  belonged  already  to  some  other  school,  and  being  struck 
with  the  importance  of  many  of  Jacobi’s  ideas,  were  anxious  to 
combine  them  with  the  principles  they  had  before  imbibed.  Fred- 
erick Koppen  and  Jacob  Salat  are  the  only  two  we  can  at  present 
recall,  who  may  be  properly  termed  the  successors  of  Jacobi  in 
the  advocacy  of  his  faith-philosophy  ; the  others  must  be  regarded 
as  seeking  to  unite  this  philosophy  with  that  of  Kant,  of  Fichte, 
or  of  Schelling ; oftentimes  adding  original  suggestions  of  their 
own.  In  following,  then,  the  fortunes  of  this  new  element  of 
feeling  (whose  introduction  upon  the  stage  we  have  just  shown), 
we  shall  notice  three  classes  of  advocates,  whom  we  may  charac- 
terize as  grafting  the  faith-philosophy  of  Jacobi  respectively  upon 
the  idealism  of  Kant,  of  Fichte,  and  of  Schelling. 

1.  The  writers  to  whom  we  ventured  to  give  the  appellation  of 
Jacobian-Kantists,  are  Bouterwek,  Krug,  Fries,  and  Calker. 

Bouterwek  (born  1766,  made  professor  at  Gottingen  1791,  died 
there  1828,)  began  his  philosophical  career  just  at  the  time  when 
the  writings  both  of  Kant  and  Jacobi  were  in  the  flush  of  their 
fame.  From  the  former  he  learned  that  there  is  a realistic  ground 
which  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  phenomena,  and  without  which  all 
thinking  is  simply  a logical  play  upon  empty  terms  and  notions  : 
from  the  latter  he  learned  that,  in  addition  to  the  external  senses, 
there  is  an  inward  sense  (whether  it  be  termed -faith  or  feeling)  by 
which  all  real  objective  existence,  of  a spiritual  or  rational  nature, 
is  communicated  to  us.  Hence  he  concluded  that  whether  we 
direct  our  attention  to  thought  or  to  feeling,  there  must  be  a real 
basis,  a “ seyn,”  from  which  they  equally  spring.  This  basis,  he 
argued,  can  neither  be  found  by  thinking  nor  by  feeling,  as  these 
are  both  subjective  phenomena ; but  there  must  be  an  absolute 
knowing-faculty  (Erkenntniss-vermogen),  by  which  it  is  imme- 
diately revealed  to  us,  and  out  of  which,  as  the  ultimate  ground, 
both  thought  and  feeling  spring  forth.  The  science  of  this  prim- 
itive faculty,  and  the  knov/ledge  which  arises  from  it,  Bouterwek 
terms  Apodiktik  (from  anndeixi'vfu)]  an  expression  which  he  found 
it  convenient  to  use,  in  order  to  make  clear  that  primary  fact  of 


604 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


consciousness,  which  beai's  the  type  neither  .of  feeling  nor  think- 
ing, but  lies  deep  at  the  very  foundation  of  both.  In  order  to 
make  this  apodiktical  starting  point  sufficiently  broad,  Bouterwek 
lays  down  three  primary  facts  of  consciousness  to  which  it  is  to 
be  applied,  and  these  are  thought,  knowledge,  and  action.  We 
have  accordingly  three  divisions  of  Apodiktik,  termed  respectively, 
the  logical,  the  transcendental,  and  the  practical.  In  the  logical 
Apodiktik,  the  author  seeks  the  absolute  basis  or  principle  of 
thought  per  se,  and  shows  that  the  very  fact  of  thinking  implies  a 
reality,  both  in  the  subject  and  object.  To  investigate  this  reality, 
is  the  problem  of  the  transcendental  Apodiktik,  the  result  of  which 
is,  that  we  must  admit  an  absolute,  a primary  essence,  as  the  con- 
stitutive principle  of  all  things.  This  has  been  termed  by  some,  a 
negative  Spinozism. 

The  real  nature  of  the  absolute,  lastly,  is  only  found  in  the  prac- 
tical Apodiktik,  which  shows  us  that  the  most  intimate  and  essen- 
tial conception  we  can  have  of  all  being,  is  that  of  a povjer,  or 
rather  a virtuality,  by  the  action  and  reaction  of  which  all'  things 
consist.  Such  was  the  original  philosophy  of  Bouterwek,  as  de- 
velop?d  in  his  “ Idee  einer  allgemeinen  Apodiktik.”  In  some  of 
his  late  works  he  altered  his  views  on  the  foundation  principles  of 
human  knowledge,  so  as  to  bring  them  far  nearer  to  the  faith- 
philosophy  of  Jacobi.  Throughout  his  whole  career,  indeed,  he 
was  floating  in  uncertainty  between  the  two  principles  of  faith 
and  reflection  ; sometimes  tending  to  the  one,  sometimes  to  the 
other,  and  ever  struggling  to  discover  some  common  ground  which 
might  unite  the  claims  of  both.* 

Bouterwek  had  placed  thought  and  feeling  very  nearly  upon  an 
equality,  varying  as  to  the  degree  of  preponderance  he  would  assign 
to  each.  In  the  writings  of  Krug  (born  1770,  since  1808  Professor 
at  Leipzic,  died  1842),  to  whom  we  next  advert,  we  have  another 
instance  of  this  kind  of  mixed  metaphysical  system.  Krug  began 
by  attempting  to  furnish  a new  critical  philosophy,  in  which  the 
true  method  of  metaphysical  investigation  should  be  better  shown, 
and  the  full  extent  of  the  human  faculties  sounded.  This  was  ac- 
complished in  a work,  entitled  “ Sketch  of  a New  Organum  for 
Philosophy,”  published  at  Meissen,  in  1801,  in  which  he  shows  that 

* The  chief  philosophical  work  of  Bouterwek  may  be  considered  that  above  men- 
tioned, the  “ Idee  einer  allgemeinen  Apodiktik,”  (1799.)  The  one  of  next  importance  is 
the  “ Lehrbuch  der  Philosophischen  Wis'senschaften,”  (1810.)  The  “ Religion  der 
Vernunft,”  (1834,)  is  interesting,  as  containing  the  most  obvious  modification  of  hia 
original  system. 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


605 


true  philosophy  arises  from  turning  our  contemplation  inwards,  and 
searching  into  the  facts  of  our  own  consciousness.  In  the  con- 
sciousness, he  affirms,  subject  and  object,  knowing  and  known, 
thought  and  existence,  are  absolutely  united.  Beyond  this  synthe- 
sis, as  a fact  of  our  own  observation,  we  are  unable  to  reach ; for 
there  is  the  ultimate  bound  of  all  metaphysical  research.  (Trans- 
cendentaler  Synthetismus).  Should  it  be  attempted  to  penetrate 
beneath  this  fundamental  fact,  and  deduce  either  knowing  from 
being,  or  being  from  knowing,  the  only  result  which  can  follow  will 
be  materialism  in  the  one  case,  and  idealism  in  the  other.  The 
sole  ground  on  which  we  can  take  our  stand,  is  that  of  the  follow- 
ing fixed  and  unalterable  convictions  : — first,  that  I am  ; secondly, 
that  there  is  an  existence  out  of  myself ; and,  thirdly,  that  the  two 
exist  for  each  other.  In  this  threefold  conviction,  all  our  absolute 
knowledge  is  grounded.  In  his  next  work,  entitled  “ Fundamental 
Philosophy,”  he  develops  more  at  large  the  nature  of  human  knowl- 
edge, and  draws  the  distinctions  which  he  thinks  warranted,  be- 
tween the  various  organs  that  subserve  the  acquisition  of  it. 
Knowing,  he  affirms,  is  conviction  from  objective  grounds — believ- 
ing, from  subjective  grounds.  Knowing  is  the  first  degree  of  con- 
viction, faith  the  second ; while  opinion  is  conviction  of  a still 
feebler  kind.* 

Lastly,  to  probe  this  faith-principle  to  its  foundation,  he  furnishes 
a new  theory  of  the  Feelings,  (published  1823,)  in  which  he  at- 
tempts to  show  that  feeling  is  the  dim  and  undefined  ground  from 
which  thought  springs  forth,  and  that  it  is  by  means  of  thought  or 
reflection  that  the  knowledge  which  feeling  conveys  is  rendered 
clear  and  valid.  The  motto  which  he  prefixes  to  this  work  well- 
nigh  explains  its  whole  theory. 

Fiihlen  willst  du  t Wohlan ! Es  regt  sich  innerst  im  Herzen 

Jedes  schone  Gefuhl,  stammend  von  oben  herab, 

Doch  vergiss  nicht,  dass  auch  von  dorther  stammt  der  Gedanke, 

Funke  der  Gottheit,  Gefuhl ! Funke  der  Gottheit,  Vernunft;  !t 


* See  Michelet,  vol.  i.  p.  406. 

t The  following  graphic  sketch  of  Krug’s  philosophical  life,  in  a religious  point  of 
view,  is  given  by  M.  Amand  Saintes,  in  his  " Histoire  Critique  du  Rationalisme  ” 
p.  207. 

“ Fertile  and  earnest  as  a writer,  Krug  made  use  of  all  possible  methods  to  e.xtend 
the  empire  of  Kant’s  philosophical  ideas  at  the  expense  of  the  ancient  faith.  Speeches, 
articles,  programmes,  dissertations,  dictionaries,  manuals,  all  forms,  and  one  might  say 
all  fashions,  were  employed  to  arrive  at  his  purpose  ; for  he  did  not  even  disdain  satire 
when  he  judged  it  necessary  to  shut  the  mouth  of  his  adversaries.  He  appeared,  after 
a long  life  spent  in  struggles,  to  have  earned  some  enjoyment  of  the  fruit  of  his  labors  ; 
but  we  are  assured  that  his  wounded  self-love  contemplates  with  bitter  feeling  a gener- 
ation which  no  longer  applauds  with  the  same  warmth  his  philosophical  dissertations, 
* * * and  that  he  h^  not  been  insensible  to  the  withering  of  his  laurels.” 


606 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


This  last  attempt  of  Krug  opens  the  way  for  the  philosophy  of 
Fries  (born  1773,  since  1805  professor  of  philosophy  at  Heidelberg 
and  Jena,  died  about  1844),  in  which  the  element  of  feeling  again 
attains  a predominance  more  nearly  equal  to  what  it  held  in  the 
writings  of  Jacobi.  The  chief  work  of  this  author  is  entitled  “A 
New  Critique  of  Pure  Reason”  (published  first  in  1807),  the  object 
of  which  was  to  place  the  categories  of  Kant  upon  a fresh  basis, 
and  to  show  how  they  all  spring  forth  from  inward  sense,  or  feeling. 
The  position,  accordingly,  which  Fries  holds  in  the  history  of  phil- 
osophical doctrines,  is-  between  Kant  and  Jacobi,  with  a predom- 
inant leaning  to  the  latter.  He  admits,  with  Kant,  that  all  our 
notions  and  conceptions,  all  that  we  properly  term  knowledge, 
(Wissen,)  arises  from  our  inward  faculties,  and,  consequently,  is 
purely  subjective : on  the  other  hand,  he  maintains,  with  Jacobi, 
that  there  is  an  inward  faith-principle,  to  which  all  our  thoughts 
and  notions  are  secondary.  The  one  he  regards  as  fallible,  and, 
consequently,  unworthy  our  implicit  confidence ; the  other  he  holds 
up  as  that  sure  and  infallible  organ  of  absolute  truth,  by  which  the 
real  nature  of  things  is  made  known  to  us. 

The  philosophy  of  Fries  may  be  regarded  fundamentally  as  a 
mixture  of  scepticism  and  idealism.  His  theory  of  certitude  is 
purely  subjective — his  theory  of  truth  simply  the  agreement  of  our 
ideas  within  themselves.  So  far  he  must  be  considered  as  assuming 
a sceptical  position  with  regard  to  all  objective  I’eality.  To  avoid 
this  result,  however,  he  brings  in,  in  addition  to  Wissen.  other  two 
principles  of  knowledge,  termed  Glauhen  and  Ahnung.  Knowledge 
simply  comprehends  the  phenomena  which  we  gain  by  means  of 
sensation  and  understanding.  Faith  gives  us  an  insight  into  the 
more  intimate  nature  of  things — raising  us  to  the  intuition  of  the 
true,  the  beautiful,  the  good,  still  only  as  subjective  principles.  That 
which  he  terms  Ahnung,  alone  gives  us  any  conception  of  these 
things  as  sublime  objective  realities. 

The  chief  feature,  then,  in  Fries’  system  (which  he  terms  phil- 
osophical anthropology)  is  the  attempt  to  draw  thought  and  feeling 
into  closer  connection  ; to  show  that,  instead  of  being  entirely 
different  phenomena,  the  one  naturally  arises  from  the  other ; that 
they  both  conspire  to  aid  us  in  reading  our  own  inward  nature 
aright ; and,  through  that,  of  understanding  the  nature  of  the 
world  without.  The  opinions  of  Fries  have  perhaps  gained  the 
greatest  fame  through  their  application  to  theology.*  As  we  for- 

* The  celebrated  theologian,  De  Wette,  has  made  much  use  of  the  philosophy  o* 
Fries,  in  the  construction  of  his  theological  principles. 


MYSTICISM  .IN  GERMANY. 


607 


bear,  however,  as  much  as  possible,  to  venture  upon  this  ground, 
we  pass  on  to  the  last  of  the  names  we  have  placed  together  under 
this  sub-division,  that,  namely,  of  Calker. 

Frederick  von  Calker  (formerly  private  teacher  at  Berlin,  since 
1818  professor  at  Bonn)  has  brought  the  two  elements  of  thought 
and  feeling  into  complete  union,  so  that  the  whole  difference  be- 
tween them  in  his  system  altogether  disappears,  and  the  faith-phi- 
losophy becomes  entirely  sunk  in  the  ordinary  procedure  of  meta- 
physics. Like  those  whom  we  have  before  noticed,  he  appeals  to 
consciousness,  as  being  to  us  the  foundation  of  all  truth.  In  the 
consciousness  we  find  three  features  of  spiritual  existence,  namely, 
knowledge,  action,  and  love  ; and,  by  the  play  of  these  three  laws 
of  our  being,  we  are  placed  in  close  fellowship  with  the  very  na- 
ture and  essence  of  things  themselves,  which  fall  under  the  three 
corresponding  ideas  of  the  true,  the  good,  and  the  beautiful.  The 
object  of  Calker  is  to  exhibit  the  original  laws  (Urgesetze)  by 
which  these  three  ideas  develop  themselves,  in  all  their  fruitful  re- 
sults, to  the  human  mind ; in  doing  which,  faith  is  not  viewed 
either  as  the  beginning  or  ending  of  philosophy,  but  is  made  abso- 
lutely identical  with  scientific  knowledge.* 

In  summing  up,  then,  this  movement  of  the  philosophical  mys- 
ticism of  Germany,  we  must  consider  that  it  all  results  from  the 
varied  application  of  the  two  facts  of  logical  thinking  and  inward 
faith,  as  they  were  furnished,  the  one  by  Kant,  the  other  by  Ja- 
cobi. In  Krug,  thought  or  reflection  is  the  more  prominent  of  the 
two,  and  plays  decidedly  the  greater  part  in  the  creation  of  all 
human  knowledge  ; in  Bouterwek,  the  two  elements  as  nearly  as 
possible  balance  each  other,  the  scale  trembling  alternately  on 
either  side ; in  Fries,  the  faith-principle  becomes  greatly  predom- 
inant ; whilst,  lastly,  in  Calker,  the  distinction  vanishes,  and  both 
facts  are  blended  in  one.  Such  are  the  attempts  which  have  been 
made  to  complete  the  Kantian  philosophy,  by  the  introduction  of 
mysticism ; and  if  the  results  have  not  been  entirely  successful, 
yet  they  have  called  forth  much  truth,  and  may  be  looked  upon  as 
making  one  appreciable  step  in  the  march  of  philosophy.f 

* Calker’s  chief  work  is  entitled  “ Urgesetzlehre  des  Wahren,  Guten,  und  Schonen, 
als  Darstellung  der  Sogenannten  Metaphysik.”  The  principle  of  Calker,  as  above 
stated— that,  namely,  which  merges  all  the  different  processes  of  our  intellectual  life, 
whether  knowledge,  faith,  or  love,  into  the  science  of  consciousness ^is  virtually  a re- 

turn to  the  subjective  idealism  of ‘Fichte.  The  reader  will  also  be  reminded  here  of 
some  of  the  main  features  of  M.  de  Lamennais’  latest  philosophy. 

t In  this  representation  of  the  Jacobi-Kanlists,  I have  chiefly  followed  Michelet. 
The  view  he  takes  of  them  is,  however,  fully  confirmed  by  aU  the  principal  historians 
of  the  modern  philosophy  of  Germany. 


G08 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


2.  The  writers  who  have  grafted  the-  faith-principle  upon  the 
philosophy  of  Fichte,  are  Schlegel,  Schleiermacher,  and  INovalis. 
Charles  William  Frederick  Schlegel  was  born  at  Hanover  in  1772. 
In  1796  he  commenced  private  lecturing  at  Dresden.  After  a 
time  he  went  to  Berlin,  and  lectured  there  with  great  approbation 
and  success.  From  thence  he  removed  to  Paris,  where  he  studied 
chiefly  the  oriental  languages.  On  his  return  to  Germany,  he 
joined  the  Romish  Church,  and  settled  at  Vienna  as  court  secre- 
tary. After  experiencing  some  other  changes,  external  and  men- 
tal, he  died  on  a temporary  visit  to  Dresden,  January  11,  1829. 

To  estimate  the  literary  life  of  Schlegel  aright,  we  must  regard 
it  in  its  progressive  development.  His  earlier  years,  it  is  well 
known,  were  given  to  classical  literature  and  criticism  ; and  ever 
after,  indeed,  he  retained  the  faculty  of  presenting  ideas  in  a pop- 
ular and  descriptive  form,  to  a much  higher  degree  than  that  of 
constructing  a connected  and  logical  system.  Hence,  while  the 
writings  of  Schlegel  are  far  better  known  out  of  Germany  than 
most  other  philosophical  works  of  the  present  century,  they  pre- 
sent much  greater  difficulty  when  we  attempt  to  condense  them 
briefly  into  an  organic  whole. 

He  tried  his  pen,  first  of  all,  in  the  department  of  philosophy,  by 
writing  sketches  and  reviews  for  some  of  the  higher  periodicals  of 
the  day.  These  were  afterwards  collected,  in  conjunction  with, 
those  of  his  brother  Augustus  William,  and  published  under  the 
title  of  “ Characteristiken  und  Kritiken.”  The  earliest  work  in 
which  Schlegel  published  his  philosophical  views,  independently,  to 
the  world,  was  a romance  entitled  “ Lucinde.”  Here  he  sought  to 
employ  the  subjective  philosophy  of  Fichte,  in  order  to  explain 
the  nature  and  the  mysteries  of  human  life.  In  the  years  1804-5-6, 
he  delivered  courses  of  lectures,  in  which  he  aimed  at  explaining 
logically  the  views  he  had  presented  before  only  in  their  poetical 
form,  but  in  which  it  is  easy  to  detect  a gradual  swerving  from  his. 
original  subjective  stand-point,  towards  the  mysticism  of  his  later 
life.* 

A period  of  twenty  years  now  intervenes  before  our  author 
again  appears  before  the  public  in  the  garb  of  a philosopher ; but 
in  the  meantime,  his  whole  intellectual  life  had  undergone  almost 
an  entire  alteration.  He  had  gone  from  the'  literary  activity  of 
Saxony  to  the  mental  stagnation  of  Vienna,  from  the  religious 

♦ These  lectures  were  published  posthumously  in  his  remains  by  Windishmann. 
(183G). 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


609 


freedom  of  Protestantism,  to  the  absolute  submission  of  the  Cath- 
olic. In  a word,  the  subjective  principles  of  his  former  works  had 
produced  their  recoil,  and  driven  him  into  an  utterly  objective 
mysticism.  In  1827,  he  began  again  to  lecture  on  philosophy,  at 
Vienna,  and  to  develop  his  altered  views  in  a popular  and  discur- 
sive form.  These  lectures  comprehend  “ The  Philosophy  of  Life,’ 
“ The  Philosophy  of  History,”  and  “ The  Philosophy  of  Language.’' 
It  was  whilst  engaged  indeed  in  completingc  his  last  course,  then 
delivering  at  Dresden,  that  his  career  was  arrested  by  the  hand  of 
death.  We  must  proceed  accordingly  to  give  an  exposition  of 
Schlegel’s  philosophy,  as  it  appears  before  us  during  the  different 
eras  we  have  just  described. 

In  order  to  comprehend  the  philosophy  contained  in  the  “ Lu- 
cinde,”*  it  is  necessary  to  cast  a glance  upon  the  “ Wissenschafts- 
lehre”  of  Fichte.  Fichte  made  the  me,  the  absolute  generating 
principle  of  all  things.  There  are,  however,  two  sides  to  this 
position,  the  theoretical  and  the  practical.  In  his  theoretical 
philosophy,  Fichte  represented  the  me  as  fettered  and  deter- 
mined by  certain  inexplicable  laws,  which  took  the  place  of  the 
not-me — the  objective  world  ; and  to  which  the  endless  activity 
of  the  me  was  subjected.  On  the  other  hand,  these  laws,  these 
objective  bounds,  were  explained  by  the  practical  philosophy,  as 
themselves  the  product  of  the  absolute  activity  of  the  me,  created 
in  order  to  bring  that  activity  to  some  distinct  end,  and  aid  it  in 
the  accomplishment  of  its  own  destiny.  Hence  two  views  of  hu- 
man life  could  arise.  Either  on  the  theoretical  principle  the  me 
yields  itself  to  the  power  of  what  appear  then  to  be  objective  laws 
and  realities,  or,  assuming  Its  practical  independence,  it  holds  itself 
free  from  such  trammels,  and  lives  simpl}'^  and  solely  for  itself. 
This  latter,  according  to  Schlegel,  is  the  spirit  of  the  romantic  in 
human  life  in  its  loftier  meaning,  and  forms  the  Anew  of  life  itself 
which  is  pictured  in  “ Lucinde.” 

To  get  a deeper  insight  into  this  remarkable  aspect  in  which 
human  life  was  portrayed  by  our  author,  it  must  be  further  ob- 
served, that  the  theoretical  and  practical  stand-points  are  in  them- 
selves paradoxical.  The  one  supposes  that  the  mind  is  controlled, 
the  other  that  it  is  free  ; the  one  subjects  it  to  objective  taws,  the 
other  elevates  it  above  them,  so  that  they  appear  to  be  made  only 
by  and  for  itself.  How,  then,  is  this  contradiction  to  be  solved  ? 

* Lucinde,  whom  he  pictures  in  this  romance,  was  his  future  wife,  a daughter  of 
Mendelssohn,  the  philosopher,  and  the  German  translator  of  Mad.  de  Stael’s  “ Co- 
nnne.” 


39 


610 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


By  bringing  in,  says  Schlegel,  the  idea  of  Irony.  The  me  is  abso- 
solutely  free ; but  it  loves  paradox,  and  chooses  of  itself  to  submit 
to  the  objective.  At  the  same  time  it  kno^vs  that  this  submission 
is  in  itself  unreal,  that  it  is  only  true  ironically ; and  that,  while  it 
plays  off  the  paradox  of  submission,  it  may  still  feel  itself  indepen- 
dent. Such  is  the  philosophy  of  the  higher  romantic  in  human 
life.  There  the  mind,  though  involved  in  all  the  habits  and  regu- 
lations of  outward  life,  yet  lives  for  itself,  clothes  the  objective  in 
the  garb  of  its  own  individuality,  throws  the  light  of  the  inward 
world  over  the  most  common  scenes  and  events  of  the  outward ; 
and  lives  thus  itself,  a paradox  and  a perpetual  irony  upon  human 
existence. 

This  state  of  mind  expresses  itself  by  a tender  and"  hallowed 
feeling,  a longing  which,  independently  of  its  object,  is  itself  bliss. 
This  longing  cannot  be  realized  in  action.  What  avails  action, 
when  the  whole  circumference  of  being,  and  even  of  possibility,  is 
already  included  in  the  very  natui’e  of  the  me  ? To  act,  is  to  sup- 
pose that  something  more  can  be  produced,  some  higher  and  hap- 
pier condition,  than  that  already  attained.  As  all  being  and  all 
possibility  is  already  in  the  me,  the  only  high  and  blissful  life  is  to 
give  ourselves  up  to  divine  idleness ; to  allow  our  being  spontane- 
ously to  vegetate ; and  the  nearer  the  life  of  the  man  approaches  to 
that  of 'the  j^lo-nt,  the  more  pure  and  perfect  it  is.  Here,  at  length, 
in  this  spontaneous  vegetation  of  our  being,  in  this  hallowed  idle- 
ness, we  find  eternal  sunshine  and  youth  ; instead  of  grasping 
eagerly  after  some  distant  object,  some  unrealized  bliss,  we  find  in 
our  very  longing  itself,  the  goal  and  the  prize  at  which  it  aims. 
Only  in  the  seeking  itself,  does  the  spirit  discover  the  mystery  after 
ivhich  it  seeks.  Here,  then,  we  see  the  subjective  principle  abso- 
lutely complete.  The  me,  at  length  becomes  the  cause,  impulse, 
boundary,  and  goal  of  its  own  action.  Such  is  the  ironical  stand- 
point in  Schlegel’s  philosophy ; such  the  nature  of  the  truly  ro- 
mantic in  human  life.* 

We  must  now  pass  to  our  author’s  lectures,  as  delivered  in  the 
years  1804-1806.  Here  we  find  him  attempting  to  bring  his  prin- 
ciples, hitherto  presented  in  a very  discursive  form,  into  some 
degree  of  philosophical  order;  and  at  the  same  time  struggling 
against  the  extreme  results  to  which  they  seemed  infallibly  to  lead. 
The  first  volume  contains  an  introduction,  a logic,  and  a rapid 

♦ On  the  scientific  principle  of  “ Lucinde,”  see  Schaller’s  “ Vorlesungen  fiber  Schlei- 
erraacher,”  Lee.  i.  (Halle,  1844.) 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


611 


survey  of  the  history  of  philosophy.  The  secoijd  volume  includes 
his  lectures  on  psychology,  on  nature,  on  man,  on  the  Deity,  and, 
to  some  extent,  on  morals. 

In  the  introduction  he  explains  the  idea  of  philosophy,  as  being 
that  of  a fundamental  science,  which  gives  life  and  soul  to  all  the 
rest,  and  affords  the  only  absolute  basis  on  which  they  can  rest.* 
To  determine  the  method  of  philosophy,  is  the  province  of  logic. 
Logic,  in  its  lower  acceptation,  is  the  “ science  of  the  rules  of 
thinking,”  and,  accordingly,  has  to  do  simply  with  the  forms  of 
thought.  In  this  respect,  of  course,  it  can  have  nothing  to  do  with 
objective  truth  ; and  to  use  the  syllogistic  organum  for  this  pur- 
pose, is  to  involve  ourselves  in  a mere  empty  dogmatism.  There 
is,  however,  a higher  logic,  which  has  to  do  with  the  real  objects 
of  philosophy ; which  points  us  at  once  to  their  inward  essence,  and 
shows  us  their  progressive  development.  The  former  is  termed  the 
syllogistic,  the  latter  the  genetic  method. 

The  genetic  or  speculative  method  gives  us  the  real  and  essen- 
tial development  of  the  idea  we  form  of  existence  itself;  it  affords 
us  a philosophical  construction  of  the  universe.  This  method  has 
three  movements,  which  must  concur  in  the  evolution  of  an  idea : 
the  first  is  abstraction,  by  which  we  grasp  the  pure  essential  idea 
itself ; the  second  is  construction,  by  which  we  exhibit  its  varied 
properties  in  their  order  and  connection ; and  the  third  is  reflection, 
in  which  we  recombine  the  parts  into  a whole.  In  this  part  of 
Schlegel’s  logic,  we  are  strongly  reminded  of  the  dialectic  method 
of  Hegel ; and  it  has  even  been  reproached  to  the  latter  by  some 
of  his  opponents,  that  he  has  borrowed  the  essential  ideas  of 
his>  own  world-renowned  system  fi’om  these  early  deliverances  of 
Schlegel.  Whichever  may  have  been  first  in  the  field,  certain  it 
is,  that  the  lectures  before  us  contain  a logical  constructive  method 
which  proposes  to  show  the  rhythm  of  all  being,  and  that  this 
method  contains  the  triple  movement,  consisting  of  the  union  of 
two  opposites  in  a higher  indifference-f  This  method  is,  indeed,  to 
a great  extent,  developed  by  the  deduction  of  the  chief  categories 
of  existence,  and  the  construction  of  the  full  conception  of  God. 

As  another  preparation  for  his  metaphysical  system,  Schlegel 
next  gives  a sketch  of  the  history  of  philosophy,  following  the  great 
schools  of  idealism,  empiricism,  scepticism,  and  mysticism,  through 
their  various  changes,  and  estimating  their  various  merits.  The 

* “ Vorlesungen  uber  Schleiermacher,”  vol.  i.  p.  13,  &c. 

■f  “Vorlesungen  uber  Schleiermacher,”  vol.  i.  p.  159,  etseq. 


612 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


result  is,  that  each^of  these  systems  is  seen  to  contain  some  element 
of  truth ; but  that,  after  all  has  been  done,  the  only  source  from 
which  a clear  and  steady  light  can  be  thrown  on  our  researches,  the 
only  spirit  which  can  unite  all  the  results  of  our  science  into  a har- 
monious whole,  the  only  guide  which  can  lead  us  through  the  laby- 
rinth of  human  opinions  into  the  broad  daylight  of  truth,  is  that 
faith,  which,  dimly  seen  in  the  Platonic,  has  been  fully  developed 
in  the  Chi’istian  philosophy.  Here,  then,  we  see  the  m)fsticism  of 
Schlegel  breaking  through  the  clouds  of  his  original  subjective 
idealism.  In  fact,  he  had  carried  his  subjective  principle  to  such  a 
pitch,  that  at  length  he  took  refuge  in  an  objective  and  historical 
revelation,  against  the  bottomless  abyss  of  his  own  scientific  con- 
clusions.* 

This  leads  us  to  Schlegel’s  later  philosophical  system.  Hitherto 
he- had  been  only  groping  out  of  his  subjective  trammels ; now,  how- 
ever, having  reached  the  religious  point  of  view — the  only  one,  as 
he  thinks,  from  which  truth  can  be  seen  with  distinct  and  steady 
eye — he  begins  to  build  up  his  edifice.  Seen  from  the  religious 
point  of  view;  the  real  object  of  philosophy  is  to  restore  to  mankind 
that  Divine  image  which  it  has  lost.  Men,  for  the  most  part,  are 
buried  in  objective  pursuits,  and  gratifications  of  sense  ; they  do  not 
see  the  purport  of  their  existence  ; they  do  not  comprehend  the  true 
end  of  human  life ; they  do  not  gaze  steadfastly  at  their  high  des- 
tiny. To  bring  these  things  home  to  our  inner  consciousness,  to 
restore  truth  to  the  mind,  and  inspire  it  to  labor  for  high  purposes 
— this  is  the  noble  aim  of  all  true  philosophy.  Schlegel,  then,  di- 
vides his  system  into  three  parts: — 1.  Philosophy  of  Life;  2.  Phi- 
losophy of  History ; 3.  Philosophy  of  Thought,  both  subjectively 
and  objectively  considered.  In  the  first,  he  shows  the  primary 
state  of  the  human  consciousness  in  its  rise  above  the  grossness  of 
common  life,  and  its  first  aspirations  after  truth.  In  the  second,  he 
traces  the  development  of  this  higher  life  through  the  various  ages 
of  history ; in  the  last,  he  intended  to  picture  the  state  of  man  in 
his  final  restoration  to  the  Divine  likeness. 

1.  The  philosophy  of  life  comprehends,  first,  psychology,  and 
then  theology  both  in  itself  and  in  its  applications.  In  his  psy- 
chology, Schlegel  regards  our  whole  compound  humanity  as  con- 
sisting of  mind,  soul,  and  body.  The  mind  possesses  the  two 
faculties  of  will  and  understanding  ; the  soul  possesses  other  two, 
termed  reason  and  imagination.  Imagination  invents ; reason 
* See  Michelet,  vol.  ii.  p.  4 ; also  Schaller’s  “ Vorlesungen,”  pp.  29-31. 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


613 


regulates ; understanding  perceives ; and  will  impels  to  moral 
action.* 

Man,  at  his  creation,  not  only  had  these  faculties  in  their  high- 
est perfection,  but  they  all  worked  harmoniously  together,  so  as  to 
bring  out  the  most  glorious  moral  and  intellectual  results.  But 
since  the  entrance  of  sin  into  the  world,  they  have  been  thrown 
into  fearful  disorder ; so  that,  by  the  operation  of  one  faculty 
clashing  with  another,  the  purport  of  the  whole  has  been  frus- 
trated and  destroyed.  The  object  alike  of  religion  and  philosophy, 
is  to  restore  the  harmony  which  has  been  thus  broken. f 

With  regard  to  the  ground-principles  of  natural  theology,  Schle- 
gel  rests  the  knowledge  of  God  upon  a fourfold  revelation  which  is 
made  to  us  in  Scripture,  in  nature,  in  conscience,  and  in  history. 
In  treating  of  the  first  of  these  proofs,  that  of  Scripture  and 
tradition  generally,  Schlegel  employs  a course  of  reasoning  pre- 
cisely similar  to  that  of  the  French  theological  school.  With  re- 
gard to  the  light  of  conscience,  he  reminds  us  strongly  of  Kant  and 
Jacobi. 

The  principal  object  he  has  in  view,  however,  in  entering  the 
region  of  theology,  is  to  show  its  vast  importance  in  the  philosoph- 
ical exposition  of  the  other  branches  of  human  knowledge.  Once 
let  us  light  up  the  torch  of  a pure  theology,  and  we  see  everything 
around  us  as  parts  of  a great  plan.  From  this  point  of  view,  for 
example,  we  gain  a deeper  insight  into  the  philosophy  of  nature, 
which  is  still  going  on  to  its  perfection,  and  awaiting  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth.  From  this  again  springs  the  true 
philosophy  of  government.  God  is  the  ruler  of  mankind,  the  sole 
origin  of  all  power ; and  the  three  relationships  in  which  the  power 
of  God  is  represented  on  earth,  are  those  of  the  father,  the  priest, 
and  the  sovereign.  The  authority  which  each  of  these  possesses, 
according  to  Schlegel,  is  Divine.  In  brief,  the  author  here  dis- 
cusses every  philosophical  question  from  a purely  religious  stand- 
point. Man,  nature,  history,  human  life,  everything  is  viewed  in 
its  relation  with  God  ; and  from  Divine  revelation  alone  are  we  to 
find  the  key  to  their  interpretation. 

2.  If  the  object  of  the  philoso^y  of  life  is  to  describe  the  first 
awakening  of  conscience  to  a higher  existence,  the  philosophy  of 
History  shows  the  process  by  which  this  great  end  has  hitherto 
been  unfolding  itself  in  the  world.  The  loss  of  the  Divine  image 

* Schlegel  enumerates  also  four  subordinate  faculties ; the  senses,  the  passions,  the 
memory,  and  conscience.  These  are  the  connecting  links  between  the  four  principal. 

•f  “ Phil,  des  Lebens,”  p.  140,  et  seq. 


614 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


consisted  in  the  separation  of  the  elements  of  the  human  conscious- 
ness ; its  restoration  will  consist  in  the  complete  reunion  of  them. 
In  the  first  period  of  the  world,  the-Chinese  represented  the  pure 
reason ; the  Indians,  the  imagination ; the  Egyptians,  the  under- 
standing; and  the  Jews,  the  will — each  in  its  false  and  fatal  isola- 
tion. The  second  period  of  the  world’s  history  began  with  the 
Persians,  and  included  the  Greek  and  Roman  world.  In  this  age, 
we  see  the  uniting  process  in  its  commencement — we  see  human- 
ity stepping  forth  into  a more  commanding  position,  and  becoming 
more  blended  in  political  relations,  and  in  mental -communion, 
through  the  world.  The  third  age  is  the  Christian.  Here  we  find 
the  true  uniting  principle,  which,  though  striven  against  by  self- 
love,  by  natural  vanity,  and  by  the  false  spirit  of  independence, 
shall  at  length  unite  all  mankind  into  one  vast  brotherhood  ; shall 
bring  back  all  the  scattered  elements  of  man’s  consciousness  into 
one  focus,  and  make  humanity  itself  Divine.*  In  all  this,  Schlegel’s 
Catholicism  burns  forth  most  conspicuouslyL  To  him  everything 
that  favors  freedom,  political  or  mental,  is  antichrist ; and  peace  is 
to  be  found  only  in  submission  to  authority,  both  in  church  and 
state. 

3.  Having  taken  an  historical  review  of  man’s  spiritual  life  up 
to  the  present  day,  Schlegel  proceeds  to  describe  the  final  comple- 
tion and  reunion  of  man’s  consciousness  in  the  world,  which  he 
proposed  to  explain  at  length  in  the  philosophies  of  language,  of 
religion,  and  of  naturef  In  all  these,  the  mystical  element-is  most 
prominently  shown  forth.  Language,  he  considers,  is  the  outward 
transcript  of  those  eternal,  ideas  and  feelings,  which  have  flowed 
from  the  mind  of  God  into  that  of  man.  Religion  expresses  the 
innermost  point  of  the  human  consciousness — that  in  which  reflec- 
tion and  feeling  unite,  and  in  which  God  is  realized  as  the  very 
corner-stone  of  our  inward  life.  Lastly,  nature  is  to  be  viewed  by 
the  philosopher  as  the  perpetual  manifestation  of  the  Divine  love 
in  a material  form.  In  these  lectures,  delivered  at  Dresden,  we  see 
a somewhat  higher  philosophical  element  than  in  those  which  he 
composed  for  the  lecture-room  ^pf  Vienna.  In  the  “ Philosophie 
des  Lebens,”  indeed,  he  departed  almost  entirely  from  the  very 
idea  of  science,  and  took  his  stand  upon  a purely  objective  revela- 

* “ Phil,  der  Geschichte,”  lees.  5,  7,  and  18. 

t These  topics  were  treated  of  in  a co.urse  of  lectures  which  he  commenced  in  Dres- 
den. Nine  of  them  were  delivered,  and  it  was  whilst  preparing  the  others,  that  he  was 
suddenly  called  from  his  labors.  The  last  words  he  wrote  on  MS.  were  these  : — Das 
ganz  vallendete  und  vollkommene  Verstehen  selbst  aber — ” 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


615 


tion,  coming  to  us  through  tradition  and  the  Bible.  In  the  Dresden 
lectures,  the  spirit  of  mysticism  is  equally  apparent;  but  it  appears 
in  a more  subjective  form,  and  approaches  nearer  to  the  faith- 
philosophy  of  Jacobi.  The  result  to  which  they  virtually  arrive, 
may  be  briefly  stated  as  follows  : — That  true  knowledge  consists, 
not  in  viewing  things  as  they  externally  appear,  but  as  they  are 
essentially  in  themselves ; and  that  the  only  way  by  which  we  can 
attain  to  such  a perception  of  them  is,  by  seeing  how  they  have  all 
flowed  forth  from  God,  and  how  they  eternally  subsist  in  Him. 
The  method  by  which  this  result  is  prosecuted,  is  a mixture  of 
religious  faith,  historical  research,  and  speculative  reasoning ; a 
method  which  seems  to  combine,  in  strange  association,  the  reflec- 
tion of  Fichte,  and  the  faith-philosophy  of  Jacobi,  with  the  submis- 
sive religious  belief  of  the  Catholic.*" 

Pass  we  now  from  Schlegel  to  his  friend  Frederick  Daniel  Er- 
nest Schleiermacher.  This  extraordinary  thinker  and  writer  was 
born  at  Breslau,  a.  d.  1768,  of  parents  who  belonged  to  the  so- 
ciety of  Moravian  Brethren.  His  earliest  years  were  spent  in  the 
midst  of  the  religious  life,  for  which  that  brotherhood  was  remark- 
able ; and  never  did  he  lose  the  impressions  which  were  made  upon 
him  at  that- period.  He  studied  theology  at  the  University  of 
Halle ; and,  in  1794,  was  ordained  to  a pastorate,  first  in  Lands- 
berg,  and  then  at  Berlin.  In  the  year  1802,  he  became  professor 
of  theology  and  university  preacher  at  Halle ; and,  in  1806,  re- 
moved again  to  Berlin,  where  he  resided,  sustaining  the  various 
offices  of  preacher,  professor,  and  royal  minister  of  instruction, 
until  his  death,  which  took  place  on  the  12th  of  Feb.  1834. 

Schleiermacher  was,  par  excellence,  a theologian.  Religion  had 
been  the,  friend  and  companion  of  his  childhood  ; and  he  never  de- 
serted his  first  love.  The  instruction  of  religion  formed  the  great 
purpose  of  his  life ; the  reformation  and  spread  of  religion  was  the 
object  of  his  most  earnest  endeavors ; and  his  last  words,  after  re- 
ceiving the  holy  communion,  were,  “ In  this  faith  I die.”  Had  we 
to  portray  the  influence  which  Schleiermacher  exerted  upon  the 
theology  of  his  age,  we  should  fill  many  pages,  ere  we  could  do 
justice  to  his  long  and  laborious  life.  We  should  have,  for  exam- 
ple, to  describe  the  startling  effect  of  his  discourses  on  religion, 
(“  Reden  fiber  die  Religion,”)  where  he  attacked  infidelity  in  its 
last  resource,  namely,  that  of  indifference ; to  recall  the  solemn 
accents  with  which  his  “ Monologues”  fell  upon  the  ear  of  his 
* Michelet,  vol.  ii.  pp.  5 — 46. 


616 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


countrymen  ; to  picture  the  mighty  power  of  his  eloquence,  as  felt 
by  those  who  listened  to  his  Sabbath-day  labors,  or  perused  them 
after  they  were  immortalized  by  his  pen : most  of  all,  should  we 
have  to  trace  the  entrance  of  his  great  production  on  the  “ Doc- 
trine of  Faith,”  (Glaubenslehre,)  into  the  abodes  of  the  learned, 
and  the  halls  of  theology  and  science,  to  see  it  wrestling  there 
with  the  cold-hearted  rationalism  of  the  age,  or  recalling  the  com- 
mon soul  of  humanity  back  to  its  better  nature  and  its  final  rest. 
These  things,  however,  we  must  waive,  and  only  take  a brief  view 
of  Schleiermacher,  as  a speculative  philosopher. 

One  of  his  earliest  efforts  in  philosophy  was  his  undertaking,  in 
conjunction  with  Schlegel,  to  execute  a complete  translation  of 
Plato.*  The  influence  that  flowed  from  his  love  for  that  sublime 
thinker,  was  visible,  more  or  less,  through  his  whole  life ; so  that, 
while  the  right  understanding  of  Platonism  owes  much  to  his  ef- 
forts in  its  elucidation,  he  undoubtedly  owed  much  that  was  lofty 
and  spiritual  in  his  metaphysical  views  to  it.  To  deduce  a com- 
plete and  connected  system  of  philosophy  from  the  miscellaneous 
writings  of  Schleiermacher  would  be  impossible ; in  fact,  it  was  a 
part  of  his  very  doctrine,  that  no  philosophical  system  should  be 
propounded  for  universal  reception,  and  that  no  school  should  be 
formed.  Whilst,  therefore,  he  lectured  much  upon  philosophy,  and 
took  many  original  views  upon  most  questions  which  it  brings  be- 
fore us,  he  has  left  no  followers  behind  him,  to  associate  his  name 
with  any  peculiar  class  of  metaphysical  opinions.  The  writings 
of  Schleiermacher  may  be  divided  into  three  classes.  1.  Those 
which  are  presented  in  the  oratorical,  or,  at  least,  the  more  poetical 
form.  To  these  belong  the  “Reden  fiber  die  Religion,”  the  “ Mo- 
nologen,”  and  the  “ Weihnachtsfeier.”  2.  Those  which  bear  the 
stamp  of  a purely  philosophical  character;  amongst  which  we 
reckon  chiefly  the  lectures  on  “Dialektik,”  published  as  part  of 
his  remains,  (1839,)  and  his  “ Sketch  of  a System  of  Morals.” 
3.  Those  which  bear  more  immediately  upon  theology.  The  prin- 
cipal of  these  (excepting  of  course  his  discourses,  and  tracts  of 
merely  local  interest)  are  the  work  entitled  “ Christlicher  Glaube,” 
and  his  “ Kurze  Darstellung  des  Theologischen  Studiums.”  We 
must  attempt,  therefore,  to  take  a rapid  glance  at  these  writings, 
so  far,  at  least,  as  they  carry  with  them  a philosophical  interest. 

With  respect  to  the  “ Reden,”  a cursory  view  shows  us  that  the 

* At  this  time,  too,  Schleiermacher  entered  enthusiastically  into  the  views  expressed 
by  Schlegel,  in  his  “ Lucinde.”  The  result  was  the  publication  of  a little  work,  enti- 
tled “ Vertraute  Briefe  uber  die  Lucinde.” 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


617 


chief  philosophical  interest  of  the  whole  is  concentrated  in  the 
second.  It  is  liere  that  the  author  proposes  to  search  into  the  es- 
sence of  religion ; to  strip  it  of  all  collateral  phenomena ; and  to 
hold  up  the  man  himself,  in  his  real  relation  to.  the  Divine.  With 
great  and  impressive  eloquence,  he  negatives  the  idea,  that  religion 
can  be  a mere  science ; and  equally  so  the  supposition,  that  it  can 
be  a form  of  action.  Religion  must  be  something  which  has  a 
sphere  of  ils  own,  in  connection  with  the  human  mind,  and  into 
the  nature  of  this  sphere  we  must  endeavor  to  penetrate.  Ac- 
cording to  Schleiermacher,  then,  religion  is  a deep  emotion  of  the 
mind,  arising  from  the  absorption  of  the  man — the  individual  man 
— in  the  infinite.  “ The  universe,”  he  remarks,  “ is  in  one  unin- 
terrupted activity,  and  manifests  itself  to  us  every  moment.  Every 
form  which  it  brings  forth ; every  being  to  whom,  according  to  the 
fulness  of  life,  it  gives  a separate  existence  ; every  event  which  it 
shakes  out  of  its  rich  and  ever-fruitful  bosom,  is  a working  of  the 
same  upon  us ; and  to  grasp  every  single  thing,  not  for  itself,  but 
as  a part  of  the  whole  ; to  view  everything  limited,  not  in  its  oppo- 
sition to  anything  else,  but  as  a manifestation  of  the  infinite  in  our 
life ; and  to  give  ourselves  up  to  the  emotion  thus  occasioned, — 
this  is  religion.”*  Agqin,  he  says, — “ The  one  and  all  in  religion, 
is  to  perceive  everything  which  moves  us  in  feeling,  in  its  highest 
unity,  as  one  and  the  same ; and  everything  particular  and  singu- 
lar as  only  existing  through  this ; consequently,  to  regard  our  life 
and  being  as  a life  and  being  in  God.”f  Throughout  the  whole 
oration,  the  author  labors  to  make  it  clear  and  convincing,  that 
religion  is  the  feeling  of  the  infinite — the  particular  seen  to  be  a 
part  of  the  universal ; in  brief,  that  it  is  to  view  God  in  all  things, 
and  all  things  in  God. 

So  far  Schleiermacher  would  seem  to  be  throwing  himself  into 
a kind  of  theological  objective  idealism  ; in  fact,  as  an  evidence  of 
this,  he  passes  a splendid  panegyric  upon  Spinoza  as  a man  “ full 
of  religion,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost.”J  In  the  Monologues, 
however,  we  see  the  influence  of  Fichte  reappearing ; here  in  due 
time  we  have  the  subjective  phase  of  the  religious  life  fully  ex- 
pounded, and  placed  by  the  side  of  those  former  and  more  objec- 
tive speculations.  As  in  the  Orations,  so  in  the  Monologues,  the 
second  topic  of  discussion  is  that  which  excites  the  deepest  interest 
’ ■ — it  is  that,  namely,  in  which  Schleiermacher  develops  his  peculiar 
doctrine  of  individuality  (Princip  der  Eigenthiimlichkeit).  Fichte, 

♦ Reden,  p.  58,  (Berlin,  1843).  f tbid.  p.  59,  | Ibid.  p.  43. 


618 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


as  we  have  seen,  made  the-ine  absolute ; the  very  essence  of  man 
to  liim  consisted  in  our  self-consciousness  ; no  higher  absolute 
principle  was  admitted  as  at  all  conceivable.  Schleiermacher,  on 
the  contrary,  started  with  a conception  of  the  absolute  as  complete 
as  that  of  Spinoza ; but  now  comes  back  to  the  affirmation  of 
the -me,  as  itself  comprehending  and  involving  the  absolute.  This 
blending  of  the  objective  and  subjective  stand-point  might  at  first 
seem  altogether  contradictory,  but  this  is  far  from  being  the  case. 
We  may  abstract  from  self  al\  mere  finite  individuality;  we  may 
attain  the  notion  of  jmre  -personality  as  existing  in  every  man  : and 
then  what  results  ? Clearly  this,  that  every  man  is  a peculiar 
manifestation  of  the  absolute,  a representation  in  himself  of  the 
whole  universe.  The  human  consciousness  is  a microcosm — each 
one  a distinct  microcosm.  In  a word,  the  Deity  unfolds  and  mani- 
fests Himself  through  the  individualities  of  the  different  minds 
which  He  has  created.  Here,  therefore,  the  objective  philosophy 
of  the  Orations,  and  the  subjective  philosophy  of  the  Monologues 
unite.  In  the  former  we  see  njan  elevated  by  religion  to  oneness 
with  the  absolute  ; in  the  latter,  we  see  him  manifesting  the  abso- 
lute through  the  very  medium  of  his  own  peculiar  individuality. 

But  the  question  now  comes,  how  are  we  to  realize  our  oneness 
with  the  absolute ; how  can  we  rise  to  this  high  and  holy  religious 
consciousness?  This  is  the  point  illustrated  in  the  Weihnachtsfeier; 
in  which  Christ  is  represented  as  the  perfect  union  of  the  human 
consciousness  with  the  Divine  ; and  man,  exhorted  by  a living 
union  with  him,  to  realize  his  own  union  with  God.  “ As  Schleier- 
machel-,”  observes  Michelet,  “ could  not  but  perceive  that  the  pecul- 
iar (das  Eigenthiimliche),  as  such,  must  be  a very  inadequate  ex- 
pression of  the  universal,  while  still  the  peculiar  was  the  very  prin- 
ciple of  his  philosophy,  he  holds  up  a privileged  personality,  that  of 
Christ,  as  the  highest  expression  of  the  absolute.  TJiis  is  the  only 
unity,  in  which  the  many  can  know  themselves  as  one.  Accord- 
ingly he  lays  down,  in  the  life  of  the  individual,  two  sources  of  joy 
which  should  be  celebrated.  Our  birthday  is  the  type  of  a definite 
and  limited  feeling.  The  Christmas  festival  is  the  universal  feel- 
ing, in  which  we  celebrate  human  nature,  as  it  is  seen  flowing  from 
the  Divine  principle.  The  earth-spirit,  namely,  humanity  itself,  is 
perfect  and  without  growth;  but  the  individual  man  is  subjected 
both  to  imperfection  and  to  progress,  until  he  becomes  one  with 
humanity  at  large.  Only  when  the  individual  regards  humanity 
a§  a living  assembly  of  individuals,  only  when  he  bears  in  himself 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


619 


its  spirit  and  its  consciousness,  when  he  loses  himself  in  its  separate 
existence,  and  anon  finds  himself  again, — only  then  has  he  in  him- 
self the  higher  life,  and  the  peace  of  God.  This  communion,  the 
self-consciousness  of  mankind  in  the  individual,  is  the  Church.  W e 
seek  a point,  then,  from  which  such  communion  has  sprung,  and  be- 
cause in  Christ  this  self-consciousness  of  the  earth-spirit  first  awoke, 
therefore  he  is  the  Word  of  God  become  flesh.  In  the  God-man, 
therefore,  all  are  one,  for  every  one  must  manifest  this  identity.  In 
the  birth  of  Christ  every  one  sees  his  own  higher  birth,  and  therefore 
universal  joy  is  the  character  of  the  Christmas  festival.”* 

Here,  then,  we  see  the  first  series  of  Schleiermacher’s  specula- 
tions completed.  In  the  Orations  we  have  religion  contemplated 
as  a feeling,  the  feeling  of  the  infinite  ; in  the  Monologues  we 
have  it  regarded  as  moral  energy ; and  in  the  Christmas  festival, 
we  have  it  brought  into  the  form  of  a distinct  idea,  the  union  of 
the  finite  and  infinite  personality  through  oneness  with  Christ. 

We  must  now  pass  to  the  consideration  of  Schleiermacher’s 
philosophy,  as  it  appears  in  its  more  direct  and  formal  character. 
Every  kind  of  knowledge  which  is  not  based  upon  philosophy,  he 
regards  as  either  traditionary,  or  in  some  way  incomplete.  Real 
knowledge  can  only  arise  from  a perception  of  the  unity  and  com- 
pleteness of  all  science,  as  springing  from  fixed  fundamental  prin- 
ciples. The  basis  of  all  philosophy,  therefore,  and  consequently  of 
all  truth,  must  be  found  in  the  essential  identity  of  the  knowing 
and  the  known,  of  thought  and  existence.  This  unity,  it  is  evident, 
cannot  be'  realized  as  an  idea  or  conception ; for  then  it  would 
already  be  within  the  region  of  the  ideal,  neither  can  it  be  realized, 
as  Fichte  would  have  it,  in  the  will.  The  blending  of  thought  and 
volition,  however,  produces  a phenomenon  termed  feeling,  and  it 
is  here  that  all  opposition  between  subject  and  object  vanishes,  here 
we  obtain  a direct  intuition  of  the  absolute  (Jacobi). 

All  philosophy,  then,  supposes  the  absolute  in  itself,  and  likewise 
assumes  the  opposition  of  subject  and  object,  of  the  intellectual 
and  the  natural,  as  fundamental  determinations  of  it.  This  gives 
rise  to  two  main  and  all-embracing  sciences  ; the  science  of  nature 
and  the  science  of  reason.  To  look  still  further  into  the  details  of 
philosophy,  we  must  take  into  consideration,  that  there  are  two 
modes  in  which  all  science  may  be  viewed ; namely,  as  empirical 
or  observing  on  the  one  hand,  as  speculative  or  intuitional  on  the 
other.  All  real  knowledge  is  both  empirical  and  speculative ; the 
* “ Entwickelungs-geBchichte,”  p.  97. 


620 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


difference  between  its  various  departments,  consisting  only  in  the 
relative  preponderance  of  the  one  form  of  knowing  over  the  other. 
Accordingly,  taking  the  sciences  of  nature  and  reason  as  funda- 
mental, we  may  regard  each  of  them  in  two  different  lights ; that 
is,  as  having  a preponderance  on  the  one  hand  of  the  empirical,  on 
the  other  of  the  speculative.  Nature,  viewed  with  a maximum  of 
the  empirical,  is  Natural  History  (Naturkunde) ; with  a maximum 
of  the  speculative,  it  is  Physics  (Naturwissenschaft).  On  the  other 
side,  reason,  viewed  with  a preponderance  of  the  empirical,  gives 
the  Philosophy  of  History  (Geschichtskunde) ; with  a preponder- 
ance of  the  speculative  it  gives  Ethics.  The  science  of  nature  is 
only  real  and  philosophical  in  as  far  as  it  is  penetrated  with  reason ; 
that  of  reason,  only  so  far  as  it  is  viewed  in  connection  with 
nature.  The  empirical  and  the  speculative  must  mutually  pene- 
trate each  other,  in  order  to  produce  real  and  valid  knowledge.  If 
the  empirical  be  viewed  alone,  then  we  have  merely  the  bare  ob- 
servation of  phenomena,  but  no  science;  if  the  speculative  be 
viewed  alone,  then  we  have  formal  logic  or  dialektik,  which  has  no 
element  of  realism  to  support  it.* 

In  his  dialektik,  Schleiermacher  develops  forms  of  our  knowl- 
edge with  great  logical  skill,  showing  (something  on  the  plan  of 
Fichte)  how  all  can  be  deduced  from  the  fundamental  opposition 
of  subject  and  object,  as  that  in  which  they  are  all  virtually  in- 
cluded. The  union  of  these  leads  to  a higher  sphere  of  mental 
activity,  that  of  the  religious  feeling — the  intuition  of  the  absolute. 
By  far  the  most  important  part  of  our  author’s  philosophy,  how- 
ever, is  contained  in  the  ethics,  which  have  gained  in  his  hands  a 
depth  and  a significancy  never  before  attained  to.  Ethics,  accord- 
ing to  Schleiermacher,  is  the  science  which  treats  of  the  unity  of 
nature  and  reason.  Now  ethical  philosophy,  as  we  showed  above, 
is  a branch  of  science  in  which  the  speculative  predominates,  and 
consequently,  like  all  speculative  science,  must  take  its  stand  upon 
the  universal,  and  deduce  from  thence  the  particular.  Ethics  ac- 
cordingly, scientifically  considered,  is  the  expression  of  o.  perpetual 
operating  of  reason  upon  nature.  Should  it  lead  us  to  deduce  their 
absolute  unity,  so  that  nature-  becomes  all  reason,  or  reason  all 
nature,  the  science  would  be  complete,  and  no  further  philosophy 
on  the  subject  required ; the  continued  attempt,  however,  to  unfold 
their  connection  and  unity,  is  precisely  the  process  in  which  ethical 
science,  as  we  now  grasp  it,  consists. 

* “ Entwurf  eines  Systems  der  Sittenlehre."  See  the  “ Introductory  Explanations.” 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


621 


Reason,  in  its  operation  upon  nature,  assumes  two  great  charac- 
teristics. First  of  all,  it  shows  itself  as  the  principle  of  form,  or 
organization.  But,  secondly,  inasmuch  as  every  form  in  nature  is 
significant  of  some  idea,  reason  shows  itself,  also,  in  connection 
with  nature  as  a symbolizing  power  or  activity.  These  character- 
istics, which  are  seen  in  the  material  world,  impress  themselves, 
also,  upon  all  the  features  of  human  society.  Whenever  nature 
and  reason  blend  in  harmony,  there  is  what  we  term  good.  Ac- 
cording as  reason  and  nature  stand  affected  to  each  other,  different 
kinds  of  good  come  to  view.  Sometimes  the  organizing  power  is 
predominant,  and  sometimes  the  symbolizing — sometimes  the  idea 
of  unity  is  in  the  foreground,  and  sometimes  that  of  individuality. 
On  these  principles,  Schleiermacher  explains  the  moral  constitution 
of  the  family,  the  state,  the  principle  of  association,  the  priesthood 
of  science,  and  the  ethical  nature  of  the  Church. 

After  these  hints  as  to  the  position  which  the  ethics  hold  in  our 
author’s  philosophy,  we  must  be  content  to  refer  our  readers  to  the 
works  themselves  for  a fuller  elucidation.* 

Schleiermacher’s  most  voluminous  writings  are  those  which 
relate  to  theology.  His  “ Dogmatik  ” is  built  upon  the  reality  of 
religion  as  developing  itself  in  feeling.  Starting  from  this  point, 
he  ha*s  produced  a system  of  theology  which  has  had  more  influence 
upon  the  theological  thinking  in  the  present  age,  than,  perhaps,  any 
other  production  of  our  whole  European  literature.  The  subjec- 
tive idealism  of  Fichte,  and  the  faith-philosophy  of  Jacobi,  are  here 
seen  to  pour  out  all  their  treasures  as  humble  contributions  to  the 
full  expansion  of  the  Christian  doctrine.  We  would  earnestly 
recommend  the  reader  who  wishes  to  understand  somewhat  of 
the  best,  the  most  spiritual,  the  most  religious  of  the  German 
theological  literature,  to  peruse  these  noble  writings  of  Schleier- 
macher ; where,  amidst  much  that  he  may  perchance  reject,  he 
will  find  no  few  materials  of  instruction  and  delight.* 

There  is  yet  another  name  which  we  must  not  altogether  omit, 
that,  namely,  of  Novalis.  Friedrich  Baron  von  Hardenberg  (such 
was  his  proper  appellation)  was  born,  like  Schleiermacher,  of  Mora- 
vian parents,  in  the  duchy  of  Mansfield,  a.  d.  1772.  In  1790  he 
entered  the  university  of  Jena,  and  completed  his  studies  in  Leip- 

* The  chief  ethical  works  of  Schleiermacher  are,  “ Grundlinien  einer  Kritik  der  bish- 
erigen  Sittenlehre,  (1803;)  “ Ueber  die  Wissenschaftliche  Behandlung  des  Tmrendbe- 
griffs,  (1819;)  Ditto  “ Des  Pflichtbegriffs,  (1824 ;)  “Ueber  den  Begriff  des  liBchsten 
Gutes,  (1827  and  1830  ;)  and  the  “ Entwuri  der  Sittenlehre,”  as  before  mentioned. 

f As  a good  introduction  to  Schleiermacher,  see  Schaller’s  “ Vorlesuno-en.” 


G22 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


sig  and  Wittenberg.  In  1795  he  settled  at  Weissenfels  in  Thu- 
ringia, where,  about  the  same  year,  he  married.  Death,  however, 
soon  removed  his  bride  from  his  then  happy  home,  whom,  after  lin- 
gering three  melancholy  years,  he  followed  into  that  eternity,  with 
thoughts  of  which  his  writings  were  so  deeply  imbued.  Novalis 
completes  the  cycle  of  mysticism,  which  we  have  seen  springing 
from  the  mixed  influence  of  Fichte  and  Jacobi.  Schlesrel,  in  whom 
it  commenced,  took  refuge,  as  we  saw,  from  the  abyss  of  scepticism, 
to  which  his  extreme  subjective  principles  led,  in  an  objective 
revelation,  as  the  organ  of  eternal  verities  otherwise  unknown. 
Schleiermacher,  while  making  each  human  consciousness  the  su- 
preme arbiter  and  test  of  truth,  yet  would  assimilate  them  all  to 
the  perfect  mind  of  Christ,  the  Divine  Man,  the  type  of  infinite 
purity  and  love.  Novalis,  proceeding  one  step  further,  regards  it 
as  the  true  purport  of  philosophy  to  destroy  the  individua;!,  the 
finite,  the  imperfect,  the  subjective  self ; and  to  enable  us  to  be- 
come one  with  the  infinite  and  all-perfect  mind.  To  him  the  foun- 
dation of  all  philosophy  is  faith,  that  is,  an  inward  light,  which 
reveals  to  us  the  infinite  and  the  real ; a direct  perception  of  the 
Divinity ; an  irresistible  conviction  of  the  presence  of  the  great 
spirit  of  the  universe  in  all  we  see,  hear,  and  feel  around  us.  Think- 
ing is  to  him  but  the  reflection  or  the  dream  of  faith,  one  ^hich 
pictures  to  us  truth  only  in  dim,  unreal,  and  fantastic  forms.  It  is 
only  when  we  cause  our  own  individuality  to  sink  and  die  within 
us,  when  the  peculiar  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  finite  self  are 
crushed  under  the  power  of  the  higher  feelings,  and  we  become 
absorbed  in  the  Divine,  that  we  rise  to  the  full  light  of  truth,  and 
gaze  upon  things  as  they  are.  In  Novalis,  accordingly,  we  no 
longer  see  the  idealist  taking  his  stand  upon  the  principles  of  a 
purely  subjective  philosophy ; but  we  see  him,  having  left  the  road, 
and  introduced  the  additional  element  of  a higher  faith,  completely 
overcoming  the  subjective  point  of  view,  sinking  the  individual  self 
in  the  great  spirit  of  the  universe,  and  evincing  a sublime  mysti- 
cism, that  strives  to  unite  man  with  God. 

Novalis  only  published  during  his  lifetime  a few  poetical  rhapso- 
dies (Hymns  on  the  Night),  and  other  light  productions  ; the  chief 
of  his  philosophical  notions  are  derived  from  his  posthumous  frag- 
ments, in  which  he  touches  upon  many  points  in  morals,  physics, 
and  philosophy ; and  develops  somewhat  at  large  the  ideas  to  which 
we  have  just  adverted.*  The  merits  of  Novalis,  as  an  aesthetic 

♦“Novalis  Schriften;”  “ Herausgegeben  von  Tieck  und  Schlegel.”  (1814  and 
1837.)  These  consist  of  two  small  vols.  l2mo,  containing  the  poems  and  other  frag- 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


623 


writer,  have  been  discussed  in  several  of  our  English  reviews.  The 
reader  can  judge  of  his  general  style  of  composition  by  a refer- 
ence to  these  articles : our  object  has  been  simply  to  show  his 
proper  position  in  the  development  of  the  subjective  mysticism 
of  Germany,  as  it  arose  during  the  earlier  years  of  the  present 
century. 

Let  us  sum  up  our  remarks  in  a few  words.  The  tendency  of 
Kant’s  philosophy  flowed  decidedly  towards  the  point  of  view  we 
have  indicated  by  the  term  subjective  idealism ; that,  namely,  which 
makes  all  human  knowledge  spring  from  and  concentrate  in  self. 
This  subjective  principle  was  completed  in  Fichte.  In  Schlegel 
we  see  the  subjective  philosophy  just  about  to  open  into  the  region 
of  scepticism,  we  might  even  say  of  nihilism,  and  the  fatal  conse- 
quences only  retrieved  by  the  interposition  of  faith.  This,  accord- 
ingly, is  to  be  viewed  as  the  critical  turning-point  between  the 
subjective  and  objective  tendency  in  the  Germ’an  philosophy.  In 
Schleiermacher  we  see  the  subjective  principle  not  repudiated  as 
by  Schlegel,  but  beginning  to  assume  a more  objective  character, 
inasmuch  as  the  human  individuality,  according  to  him,  is  to  be 
moulded  into  the  likeness  of  Christ,  until  all  men,  in  their  religious 
consciousness,  reflect  his  Divine  image.  In  Novalis,  at  length,  the 
subjective  self  is  to  be  crushed  and  destroyed,  and  we  are  to  be- 
come one  with  God,  the  soul  of  the  world.* 

Here  subjective  mysticism  terminates,  and  we  find  a transition 
from  the  predominant  influence  of  Fichte  to  that  of  Schelling. 
Schelling  saw  the  abyss  of  nihilism,  in  which  subjective  idealism, 
when  consecutively  developed,  must  end  ; and  began  by  asserting 
the  claims  of  some  objective  reality,  upon  our  firm  belief.  We 
have  already  shown  in  what  manner  he  developed  his  whole  sys- 
tem of  objective  idealism,  and  how  nearly  he  had  come  in  his  later 
views  upon  the  verge  of  philosophical  mysticisrh.  The  majority 
of  his  followers,  indeed,  have  become  decided  mystics ; and  we 
must  now,  accordingly,  advert  to  the  views  which  have  arisen  from 
the  conjunction  of  the  opinions  of  Schelling  with  those  of  Jacobi. 
Schelling’s  most  popular  and  striking  productions,  are  unquestion- 
ably .those  in  which  he  develops  his  principles  of  “ Natur-Philoso- 

ments.  The  first  vol.  consists  of  a little  romance,  entitled  “ Heinrich  von  Ofterdingen.” 
The  second  comprehends  the  “ Hymnen  an  die  Nacht,”  the  “ Lehrlinge  zu  Sais,”  and 
some  philosophical  fragments.  Of  these,  the  first  is  on  “ Philosophy  and  Physics,”  in 
which  the  idea  of  nature  is  particularly  developed.  The  second  is  on  “ jEsthetics’and 
Literature.” 

♦ See  Michelet  “ Geschichte,”  vol.  ii.  pp.  4,  and  114.  See  also  his  “ Entwickelungs- 
geschichte,”  lec.  5.  “ 


624 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


phie”  The  school  of  Schelling,  accordingly,  has  ever  been  char- 
acterized by  its  tendency  to  institute  speculations  of  this  kind ; 
which,  when  united  with  the  faith-philosophy,  have  given  rise  to 
theosophic  systems,  some  of  a more  sober,  and  others  of  a more 
extravagant  character.  This  leads  us,  then,  to  consider, 

3.  Those  writers  who  have  combined  objective  idealism  with  the 
philosophy  of  feeling.  One  of  the  most  celebrated,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  most  valuable  of  these  authors,  is  Gotthilf  Heinrich 
Schubert,  now  professor  at  Munich.  Incited  by  his  objective 
tendency,  and  by  his  evident  admiration  of  Schelling,  Schubert 
directed  his  attention,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  philosophy  of  nature, 
and  proposed  mystical  interpretations  of  many  natural  phenomena. 
In  fact,  his  system,  as  a whole,  starts  from  nature,  and  proceeds 
upwards  to  spirit ; and,  accordingly,  most  of  his  first  writings  refer 
entirely  to  the  world  of  outw'ard  phenomena.  The  following  titles 
of  some  of  these  w'orks  will  give  an  idea  of  the  primary  branches 
of  Schubert’s  philosophy : — “ Views  from  the  Night  Region  of 
Natural  Science”  (1808),  “The  Original  World  and  the  Fixed 
Stars”  (1822),  “ Universal  History  of  Nature”  (1826,  last  and  com- 
plete edition,  1837),  &c. 

To  recount  the  theories  which  are  here  proposed,  in  their  bare 
principles,  would  be  by  no  means  interesting;  and  as  we  have 
somewhat  fully  explained  the  Natur-philosophie  of  Schelling  in  a 
former  chapter,  our  readers  can  gain  from  thence  an  idea  of 
the  method  in  which  the  same  subjects  are  treated  by  the  author 
now  before  us.  Suffice  it  to  remark,  that,  beginning  with  the  fixed 
stars  and  the  bare  framework  of  nature,  he  attempts  to  write  her 
complete  history  through  the  regions  of  inorganized  masses,  plants, 
and  animals,  up  to  the  point  where  the  philosophy  of  nature  hands 
us  over  to  the  philosophy  of  mind.  Recommencing  his  labors,  he 
then  sets  out  upon  another  journey,  and  proposes  to  write  the 
“ History  of  the  Soul and  here  it  is,  that  we  have  peculiarly  to 
look  for  his  metaphysical  opinions.  In  accomplishing  this  history, 
he  shows,  first,  how  the  soul  is,  as  it  were,  reflected  in  and  by  the 
body  ; how  it  gives  form  and  perfection  to  our  material  organiza- 
tion. Next  entering  upon  the  analysis  of  mind,  he  brings  forward 
a somewhat  remarkable  doctrine,  setting  forth  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  soul  (Seele)  and  the  spirit  (Geist).  The  soul  is  the  in- 
ferior part  of  our  intellectual  nature — that  which  shows  itself  most 
distinctly  in  the  phenomena  of  our  dreams — the  power  of  which 
also  is  situated  in  the  material  constitution  of  the  brain.  The 


MYSTICISM  IN  GEUMANT. 


625 


spirit,  on  the  contrary,  is  that  part  of  our  nature  which  tends  to  the 
purely  rational,  the  lofty,  the  divine.  The  doctrine  of  the  natural 
and  the  spiritual  man,  which  we  find  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul, 
may  perhaps  have  formed  the  basis  upon  which  Schubert  founded 
this  system  of  mental  dualism.  Whatever  may  have  been  its 
origin,  however,  it  forms  a very  prominent  feature  in  his  meta- 
physical analysis,  and  affords  an  explanation  of  many  facts,  which 
is  by  no  means  unreasonable  or  worthless. 

The  feelings,  as  might  be  anticipated,  play  a very  considerable 
part  in  Schubert’s  psychology.  Feeling,  in  reference  to  the  soul,  is 
the  great  impulse  of  all  our  outward  actions,  more  especially  when, 
by  a ray  from  heaven,  it  acquires  a moral  character,  and  impels  us 
to  what  is  good  and  virtuous.  Feeling,  however,  with  reference  to 
the  spirit,  is  of  a far  higher  character,  and  appears  to  us  in  the  form 
of  faith — faith,  which  conquers  sense,  and  sight,  and  the  power  of 
death — faith,  which  enables  us  to  realize  the  Divine,  and  which 
gives  us  at  once  the  longing  after,  and  the  full  conviction  of  an 
immortal  life  beyond  the  tomb.  Thus,  starting  from  nature  in  its 
most  original  forms,  our  author  pursues  his  investigations  through 
the  whole  region  of  inanimate  and  animated  existence,  passes  from 
the  world  of  matter  to  that  of  mind,  and  follows  the  course  of  our 
faculties  and  feelings,  in  their  gradual  rise  from  the  inferior  to  the 
superior,  until  he  at  length  attempts  to  solve  the  mysteries  of  our 
spiritual  being,  by  the  development  of  that  higher  faith,  which  binds 
us  by  close  affinities  to  the  immortal  and  the  divine.  In  brief, 
Schubert  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  best,  the  most  moral,  and 
perhaps  we  may  say,  the  most  religious  writers,  who  have  sought 
to  combine  the  objective  philosophy  of  Schelling  with  the  mystical 
tendencies  of  the  school  of  Jacobi. 

The  next  writer  of  the  same  school  that  we  have  to  mention,  is 
Franz  Xaver  Baader.  Unlike  Schubert,  he  begins  with  the  sub- 
jective point  of  view,  and  from  the  central  region  of  the  soul  itself, 
attempts  to  spread  a new  light  over  the  whole  realm  of  being  at 
large.  His  writings  consist,  for  the  most  part,  of  lectures,  short 
treatises,  and  articles  furnished  for  the  philosophical  periodicals  of 
the  day,  in  which  we  find  glimpses  into  the  different  regions  of 
metaphysical  truth,  rather  than  a complete  and  connected  system. 
Of  all  the  philosophers  who  have  taken  from  Schelling  the  idea  of 
a dynamical  theory  of  nature,  Baader  is  decidedly  the  most  mys- 
tical. There  is,  indeed,  comparatively  little  in  his  works  to  re- 
mind one  of  Jacobi,  but  a strong  affinity  for  the  mystics  of  earlier 

40 


626 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


times.  It  is  evident  that  the  author  has  studied  in  the  school  of 
Jacob  Boehme,  Paracelsus,  and  Tauler,  and  adopted  at  once  their 
mysticism  and  their  spirituality. 

As  an  opponent  of  the  modern  pantheism,  Baader  stands  pre- 
eminent. He  has  seized  the  precise  points  in  which  it  is  most 
vulnerable,  and  dealt  some  of  the  most  sturdy  blows  against  the 
all-absorbing  fatalism  to  which  it  inevitably  leads.  Incapable  as 
are  his  writings  ever  to  form  a distinct  school  of  philosophy,  yet 
there  are  few  men  who  have  scattered  around  them  more  fruitful 
and  suggestive  ideas ; few  who  have  combated  more  earnestly 
for  the  principles  which  contain  the  most  precious  germs  of  meta- 
physical, moral,  and  spiritual  truth. 

To  pursue  the  windings  of  the  mystical  and  theosophic  systems, 
which  the  inordinate  speculations  of  modern  times  have  thrown 
up  to  light,  would  be  anything  but  easy,  and  anything  but  instruc- 
tive ; and  we  should  be  tempted  at  once  to  close  our  list  of  au- 
thors, chosen  from  an  extraordinary  number  of  names,  all  candi- 
dates for  the  honor  of  a philosophical  reputation,  were  not  the 
name  of  Henry  Steffens  too  prominent,  as  a mystic  natural  philos- 
opher, to  be  passed  over  in  silence.  Steffens  was  born  in  Sweden 
in  1773,  but  since  the  commencement  of  the  present  century,  has 
belonged  almost  entirely  to  Germany.*  The  faet  which  places 
this  voluminous  author  somewhat  prominently  forward  in  the  phil- 
osophical world,  is  this — that  while  some  of  the  followers  of  Schel- 
ling  have  verged  more  to  the  subjective,  and  others  to  the  objec- 
tive side  of  his  system,  Steffens  has  seized  upon  the  middle  point, 
and  labored  with  much  ability  to  show  the  absolute  unity  of  nature 
and  spirit.  “ The  totality  of  the  school  of  Schelling,”  remarks 
Michelet,  “ is  most  manifestly  set  forth  in  the  writings  of  Steffens. 
1.  In  his  ‘Principles  of  Natural  Science  philosophically  considered’ 
(1806),  he  comes  near  to  Oken,  and  to  the  formalism  of  the  philos- 
ophy of  nature.  2.  The  spiritual  side  of  our  knowledge  is  shown 
forth  in  his  ‘ Caricaturen  des  Heiligsten’  (1821).  3.  In  the  third 

series  of  his  writings,  the  unity  of  nature  and  spirit  is  developed, 
from  various  points  of  view.  First,  eternal  nature  is  considei'ed 
historically,  as  representing  itself  in  time,  and  consequently,  as  a 
spiritual  thing — an  idea  which  Herder  had  already  pointed  out, 
and  which  Steffens  regards  as  the  great  theme  of  his  life,  the 
highest  aim  of  all  his  investigations.  To  this  belongs  his ‘Con- 

* Steffens  died  a year  or  two  ago.  His  “ Nachgelassene  Werke”  were  published  in 
1 846,  with  a preface  by  Schelling,  the  last  word  which  thdt  veteran  in  philosophy  has 
spoken  to  the  public. 


MYSTICISM  IN  GERMANY. 


627 


tributions  to  an  inward  Natural  History  of  the  Earth,’  and  his 
‘ Polemical  Treatise  towards  the  furtherance  of  Speculative  Phys- 
ics.’ In  the  first  part  of  the  latter  work,  he  shows  how  the  orig- 
inal union  of  spirit  with  nature  had  been  an  ancient  opinion — 
that,  e.  g.,  of  Roger  Bacon  ; how  the  mechanical  view  of  physics 
had  become  entirely  predominant  in  the  seventeenth  century  ; 
and  how,  in  the  eighteenth  century,  men  began  to  rise  from  the 
bare  material  relations  to  the  dynamical  opposition  of  magnetism, 
of  electricity,  and  of  chemistry,  i.  e.,  to  a dynamical  system  of 
physics ; until,  in  our  own  century,  the  remarkable  union  of  all 
the  main  phenomena  of  nature,  under  the  idea  of  one  spirit,  has 
introduced  the  dawn  of  natural  science,  properly  so  called.  * * * 
Secondly,  in  his  ‘ Anthropology,’  Steffens  has  exhibited  mind  or 
spirit  as  something  reposing  upon  nature,  and  remaining  in  close 
unity  with  it,  much  in  the  sense  of  Schubert.  Thirdly,  he  pro- 
ceeds at  length  to  the  mystical-religious  point  of  view,  after  the 
example  of  Baader,  and  reproaches  himself  with  the  boldness  of 
his  earlier  knowledge.  To  this  period  belong  his  writings  on 
‘False  Theology  and  True  Faith, — A Voice  out  of  the  Churches,’ 
and  his  treatise,  entitled  ‘ How  I again  became  a Lutheran,  and 
what  to  me  Lutheranism  is.’  ”* 

The  three  authors  above  mentioned  form  but  a very  small  por- 
tion of  those  whom  the  captivating  philosophy  of  Schelling  incited 
to  similar  investigations.  Of  these,  the  majority  became  mystics, 
and  even  Schelling  himself  cannot  be  freed  from  the  charge  of  de- 
cided mysticism,  in  most  of  his  later  productions.  The  course  of 
the  German  mysticism,  therefore,  as  a whole,  now  lies  before  us. 
Retracing  our  steps  to  Jacobi,  we  see  him  introducing  into  the 
speculative  spirit  of  the  age,  the  element  of  faith,  as  a thing  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  the  perfection  of  our  knowledge,  and  the  due 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind.  This  faith-ele- 
ment was  combined,  first,  with  the  current  Kantism  of  the  age, 
and  gave  rise  to  the  somewhat  sober  and  modified  mysticism  of 
Krug,  Fries,  and  Calker ; next,  finding  its  way  into  the  subjective 
idealism  of  Fichte,  it  produced  the  paradoxical  mysticism  of  Schle- 
gel,  and  the  Christian  Platonism  of  Schleiermacher  and  Novalis  ; 

* Steffens  was  a man  of  vast  versatility  of  genius.  In  his  “ Grundziige  der  Phil. 
Naturwissenschaft,”  he  has  traversed  the  sciences  of  mineralogy,  geology,  and  natural 
science  at  large.  In  his  “ Anthropology,”  he  has  carried  the  torch  of  philosophy  into 
the  regions  of  physiology,  and  the  constitution  of  human  nature.  In  the  “ Carica- 
turen  des  Heiligsten,”  he  discusses  the  philosophy  of  politics  and  society.  And  lastly, 
in  his  religious  writings,  he  has  attempted  to  throw  light  upon  the  province  of  theoloo-y, 
both  natural  and  revealed. 


628 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


and,  lastly,  obtaining  a lodgment  in  the  objective  philosophy  of 
Schelling,  it  brought  to  light  those  multifarious  mystical  interpre- 
tations of  natural  phenomena,  to  a few  only  of  which  we  have  now 
reverted. 

The  writers  I last  mentioned,  as  advocates  of  modern  mysticism 
in  Germany,  are  the  latest  representatives  of  the  present  age,  and 
in  them,  therefore,  we  recognize  the  exact  point  to  which  the  mys- 
tical tendency  has  just  reached,  and  with  which,  accordingly,  the 
present  historical  inquiry  into  the  German  mysticism  must  termi- 
nate. We  only  add  one  remark  in  conclusion.  The  whole  of  the 
intellectual  phenomena  we  have  just  been  reviewing,  originated 
from  a new  philosophical  element,  which  Jacobi  added  to  the  pure 
logical  rationalism  of  Kant.  What  is  this  element  ? In  art,  it  is 
called  genius,  in  poetry,  inspiration,  in  philosophy, /eeZzng-,  in  re- 
ligion, faith,  in  life,  enthusiasm.  Be  it  what  it  may  by  name, 
there  is  assuredly  a spontaneous  movement  of  the  soul,  an  intui- 
tive apprehension  of  moral  and  spiritual  truth,  developing  itself 
sometimes  in  meditation,  sometimes  in  action,  which  gives  rise  to 
some  of  the  most  striking  phenomena  of  human  life.  This  move- 
ment is  the  basis  of  mysticism.  Mysticism,  then,  when  confined 
within  its  proper  limits,  like  all  the  other  philosophical  systems,  is 
truth ; it  is  only  when  this  spontaneous  element  in  the  soul  is  ele- 
vated over  the  calm  reflection  of  the  understanding  and  the  rea- 
son, that  it  is  likely  to  lead  into  extravagance  and  folly. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


ON  THE  ECLECTIC  SCHOOL  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


Sect.  I. — Rise  and  Progress  of  Modern  Eclecticism  in  France. 

The  school  of  philosophy  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  present 
section  might  have  been  treated  of  as  one  branch  of  modern  ideal- 
ism, and  would  not  have  found  an  inappropriate  place  at  the  end 
of  our  fifth  chapter.  As,  however,  eclecticism  is  not  necessarily 
idealistic  in  its  tendency,  we  have  thought  it,  upon  the  whole,  more 
convenient  to  devote  a separate  portion  of  our  work  to  the  devel- 
opment of  its  rise  and  progress,  more  especially  in  France. 

The  current  philosophy  in  France,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  was  that  which  we  have  alread}'’  portrayed 
under  the  title  of  ideology.  So  firmly  fixed,  indeed,  was  this  sys- 
tem in  the  schools  of  instruction,  and  in  the  very  habits  of  the 
thinking  part  of  the  population,  that  it  seems  necessary  in  the  out- 
set to  offer  some  conjectures  on  the  probable  causes  of  its  rapid 
decline.  These  causes  we  shall  be  able  to  trace  by  observing  the 
various  movements,  by  which  the  reaction  against  sensationalism 
was  gradually  developed. 

The  first  indications  of  discontent  towards  the  reigning  system 
made  their  appearance  amongst  some  of  the  more  spiritual  of  the 
theological  writers  of  the  age.  Ideology  was  without  a religion — 
without  aught  of  the  Divine  and  mysterious — without  any  means 
of  satisfying  the  irrepressible  cravings  of  the  human  mind  after 
God  and  immortality.  Even  Bonaparte  himself  is  known  to  have 
commented  with  severity  upon  its  utter  incapability  of  showing 
anything  great  in  human  destiny.  Considering,  then,  the  force  of 
man’s  spiritual  nature,  there  is  no  wonder  that  there  were  many 
prepared,  on  theological  grounds,  to  combat  a philosophy  that  could 
lead  to  so  dreary  a view  of  human  life. 


630 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Again,  Ideology,  by  reducing  all  the  finer  sentiments  of  the  mind 
to  mere  nervous  susceptibility,  stripped  them  of  that  poetic  color- 
ing, which  the  doctrines  of  spiritualism  so  well  knew  how  to  throw 
around  them.  The  poet,  the  critic,  and  the  man  of  taste,  possess 
by  nature,  a kind  of  spiritual  philosophy,  which,  if  not  embodied  in 
any  distinct  doctrines,  yet  shows  itself  with  equal  certainty  in  the 
excursions  of  their  fancy,  and  the  refinement  of  their  feelings. 
Those  writers  of  the  age,  who,  like  St.  Pierre,  Chateaubriand,  and 
Madame  de  Stael,  embodied  in  their  thoughts  a tone,  either  of 
religious  sensationalism  or  of  poetical  fervor,  must  have  contrasted 
very  strikingly  with  the  philosophers,  who  sought  to  reduce  even 
the  most  ethereal  of  our  feelings  to  the  mere  pulsations  of  the 
nervous  system.  Thus,  if  there  were  none  ready  to  contest  the 
dogmas  of  sensationalism  upon  scientific  gi'ounds,  there  were  many 
who  tacitly  refuted  them  by  the  philosophy  of  their  feelings  and  the 
spiritualism  of  their  sentiments. 

Another  discouragement  was  thrown  in  the  path  of  ideology,  by 
the  rapidity  with  which  the  power  of  Bonaparte,  during  the  first 
decade  of  the  present  century,  reached  its  climax.  In  addition  to 
the  ardor  for  military  glory,  by  which  he  dazzled  the  universal  mind 
of  his  country,  and  which  was  anything  but  favorable  to  such 
philosophical  pursuits,  it  is  well  known  that  he  had  a personal  an- 
tipathy to  the  so  termed  ideologues,  which  he  took  little  care  to 
conceal.  Accordingly,  in  all  the  schemes  for  education  which 
issued  from  his  government,  the  study  of  this  philosophy  was 
thrown  altogether  in  the  background,  and  its  cultivation  attended 
rather  with  the  chance  of  penalty  than  the  expectation  of  re- 
ward. 

These  several  circumstances  all  tended  to  foster  the  doubts  which 
some  even  of  the  ideologists  themselves  began  to  evince  respecting 
the  soundness  of  their  principles.  The  rage  for  materialism  had, 
in  fact,  gone  by  ; the  arguments  by  which  it  could  be  upheld,  were 
exhausted ; the  whole  extent  of  its  possible  influence  (an  influence 
not  much  to  be  vaunted)  was  now  made  visible ; the  charm  of  its 
novelty  was  fled.  Those  who  were  the  professed  metaphysicians 
of  the  age  began  to  feel  that,  if  any  further  progress  was  to  be  made 
in  their  department,  it  must  be  by  a change  of  system,  rather  than 
a closer  investigation  of  their  old  one ; and  that,  if  the  mysteries 
of  the  spirit  of  man  were  ever  to  be  sounded,  other  lines  must  be 
used  than  those  furnished  by  sensation  alone.  Our  present  object, 
therefore,  will  be  to  trace  these  indications  of  reaction  from  their 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


631 


first  commencement,  and  show  in  what  manner  they  have  gradually 
led  to  the  present  system  of  French  eclecticism. 

In  doing  this,  our  first  attention  must  be  directed  to  M.  Laromi- 
guiere,  who  was  originally  reckoned  amongst  the  abettors  of  ide- 
ology, and  formed  one  of  the  celebrated  society  who  assembled  in 
the  retreat  of  Auteuil.  This  elegant  philosophical  writer  was  born 
in  the  year  1756,  and  having  taught  metaphysics  for  some  time  at 
Toulouse,  removed  to  Paris  towards  the  commencement  of  the 
present  century,  where  he  soon  became  a professor  in  the  normal 
school.  With  the  exception  of  a few  miscellaneous  pieces,  his 
chief  reputation  as  a philosopher  rests  upon  the  lectures  which  he 
delivered,  ex  cathedrcl,  during  the  years  1811,  1812,  1813,  and  which 
were  published  in  two  volumes,  with  the  unassuming  title  of  Le- 
mons de  Philosophie.”* 

M.  Laromiguiere  had  been  educated  a zealous  pupil  of  Condil- 
lac ; and,  although  he  was  led  by  his  own  superior  genius  for  men- 
tal analysis  to  depart  widely  from  the  opinions  of  his  master,  yet  he 
ever  seemed  to  do  so  with  reluctance,  and  everywhere  attempted  to 
make  his  own  opinions  coincide  as  much  as  possible  with  the  views 
advanced  in  the  “ Traite  des  Sensations.”  There  were,  as  Cousin 
expresses  it,  in  M.  Laromiguiere  two  men,  the  ancient  and  the 
modern  ; the  disciple  and  the  adversary  of  Condillac  ; and  it  is  the 
struggle  between  these  opposed  spirits,  which  forms  the  great  lead- 
ing peculiarity  in  all  his  writings.  If,  therefore,  our  author  did 
not  make  that  progress  towards  a more  reflective  philosophy,  which 
was  soon  afterwards  made  by  those  who  followed  in  his  footsteps, 
yet  at  any  rate,  to  him  must  be  awarded  the  honor  of  the  first 
great  struggle  to  throw  of  the  chains  of  the  reigning  authority. 

The  philosophy  of  M.  Laromiguiere  is  by  no  means  difficult  to 
expound ; his  clear,  consecutive,  and  precise  habit,  both  of  think- 
ing and  writing,  affbrding  ample  means  of  doing  so  with  ease  and 
distinctness.  In  the  volumes  to  which  we  have  just  alluded,  there 
are  two  great  subjects  which  are  brought  under  discussion ; the 
first  is,  the  analysis  and  classification  of  the  human  faculties  ; the 
other  is,  the  nature  and  origin  of  our  ideas : and  from  each  of 
these  portions  we  can  derive  a tolerably  accurate  insight  into  the 
spirit  of  his  philosophy.  Let  us  first  advert  to  his  classification  of 
X\vQ  faculties.  Here,  instead  of  beginning,  as  Condillac  does,  with 
the  great  fundamental  faculty  of  sensation,  he  substitutes  in  its 

♦ Several  editions  of  these  Lectures  have  since  appeared.  The  references  are  here 
given  to  the  4th  edition,  3 vols.  12mo,  published  in  Paris  in  1826. 


632 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


place  that  of  attention;  from  which,  as  the  basis,  he  derives  in 
regular  succession,  all  the  other  powers  and  capacities  of  the  hu- 
man mind.*  These  powers  and  capacities  he  separates  into  two 
great  classes — those  of  the  understanding  and  those  of  the  will ; 
not  regarding,  indeed,  either  the  understanding  or  the  will,  as  de- 
signating separate  and  individual  faculties,  but  using  them  simply 
as  general  terms  by  which  to  denote  two  distinct  assemblages  of 
mental  phenomena.  The  faculties  of  the  understanding  he  reduces 
to  these  three  : — 1.  Attention  ; 2.  Comparison  ; 3.  Reasoning.  Of 
these  three,  attention  is  the  fundamental  principle  from  which  the 
other  two  proceed  ; and  of  these  two,  again,  the  phenomena  usually 
denoted  by  the  words  memory,  judgment,  imagination,  &c.,  are 
simply  modifications.  Thus  there  are,  according  to  M.  Laromi- 
guiere,  three  generic  powers  of  the  understanding,  from  which  all 
the  specific  or  subordinate  phenomena  proceed.  Since,  however, 
these  three  generic  powers  in  their  last  analysis  are  all  seen  to  be 
included  in  the  first,  the  whole  of  the  phenomena  of  the  under- 
standing may  be  said  to  spring  from  the  one  great  fundamental 
faculty  of  attention.^ 

If  we  now  turn  to  the  will,  we  find,  according  to  BI.  Laromi- 
guiere,  a complete  parallel  existing  between  its  phenomena  and 
those  we  have  just  been  considering.  The  foundation  of  all  vol- 
untary action  in  man  is  desire ; and  in  the  same  manner  as  we 
have  already  seen  the  two  latter  faculties  of  the  understanding 
spring  from  the  first,  so  now  we  see  springing  from  desire,  as  the 
basis,  the  two  corresponding  phenomena  of  preference  and  liberty. % 
These  three  powers,  then,  being  established,  all  the  subordinate 
powers  of  the  will  are  without  difficulty  reducible  to  them,  so  that, 
at  length,  we  have  the  complete  man  viewed  in  two  different  as- 
pects : — in  the  one,  as  an  intellectual ; in  the  other,  as  a voluntary 
being  ; the  chief  facts  of  his  intellectual  exactly  corresponding  to 
those  of  his  voluntary  existence.  Lastly,  to  bring  the  whole  sys- 
tem to  a state  of  complete  unity,  our  author  shows  that  desire  it- 
self is,  strictly  speaking,  a peculiar  form  of  attention ; that  the  fun- 
damental principle,  therefore,  of  our  intellectual  and  voluntary  life, 
is  the  same ; that  the  power  of  attention,  broadly  viewed,  (being, 
in  fact,  but  another  expression  for  the  natural  activity  of  the  hu- 
man mind,)  is  the  point  from  which  the  whole  originally  proceeds.^ 

* For  his  analysis  of  Condillac’s  classification,  see  Part  I.  lec.  iii.  For  the  state- 
ment of  his  own  system,  see  Part  I.  lec.  iv. 

t Lemons,  vol.  i.  p.  104,  et  seq.  J Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  113,  et  seq. 

§ “ La  liberte  naitde  la  preference,  la  preference,  du  desir : le  desir  est  la  direction  des 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


633 


Now,  the  contrast  between  this  psychology  and  that  of  Condil- 
lac is  sufficiently  striking;  the  one  being  indeed,  in  a measure, 
directly  opposed  to  the  other.  The  latter  system  assumes  sensa- 
tion, not  only  as  its  point  of  departure,  but  as  the  formative  prin- 
ciple of  every  other  faculty ; the  former  builds  up  the  whole  upon 
attention.  The  one  lays  at  the  foundation  of  our  whole  intellec- 
tual and  active  life  a faculty  purely  passive  in  its  nature,  and  re- 
gards all  phenomena  as  simply  transformations  of  it ; the  other 
assumes  a primitive  power,  the  very  essence  of  which  is  activity, 
and  makes  all  our  other  powers  more  or  less  share  in  this  essence. 
The  one  deduces  all  the  facts  of  consciousness  from  the  impulse  of 
the  world  without  upon  the  mind  within ; the  other  derives  them 
from  the  reaction  of  the  mind  within  upon  the  world  without.  So 
widely  had  the  pupil,  perhaps  almost  unconsciously  to  himself,  de- 
parted from  the  philosophy  of  his  master. 

The  second  part  of  M.  Laromiguiere’s  lectures  refers  to  the 
origin  of  our  ideas.  Here,  in  order  to  swerve  as  little  as  possible 
in  appearance  from  the  philosophy  of  Condillac,  he  makes  the 
whole  material  of  our  knowledge  come  from  our  sensibility.  Con- 
dillac had  derived  all  our  ideas  from  sensation  in  its  ordinary  and 
contracted  sense ; Locke  had  derived  them  from  sensation  and  re- 
flection, thus  taking  in  the  active  as  well  as  the  passive  element  to 
account  for  the  phenomena  of  the  case ; M.  Laromiguiere,  how- 
ever, explains  his  meaning  of  the  word  sensibility  in  such  a man- 
ner, as  to  make  the  foundation  still  broader  than  that  of  Locke 
himself  Sensibility,  he  shows,  is  of  four  kinds: — 1.  That  pro- 
duced by  the  action  of  external  things  upon  the  mind — this  is  sen- 
sation in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word ; 2.  That  produced  by  the 
action  of  our  faculties  upon  each  other — this  is  equivalent  to 
Locke’s  reflection ; 3.  That  which  is  produced  by  the  recurrence 
and  comparison  of  several  ideas  together,  giving  us  the  perception 
of  relations;  and  4.  That  which  is  produced  by  the  contemplation 
of  human  actions,  as  right  or  wrong ; which  is  the  moral  faculty.* 

In  this  theory,  it  appears  at  once  evident  that  there  is  a secret 
revolt  from  the  doctrines  of  sensationalism.  Our  author,  in  ex 
plaining  his  notion  of  the  sensibility  of  the  human  mind,  recedes 
step  by  step,  until  he  has  virtually  undone  all  that  had  been  at- 

facultes  (T  I’entenderaent,  qui  naissent  les  unes,  des  autres,  le  raisonnement  de  la  com- 
paraison,  et  la  comparaison  de  I’attention.  Par  consequent,  il  est  prouve  que  la  pen- 
Bee,  ou  la  faculte  de  penser,  qui  embrasse  toutes  les  facultes  de  Tame,  derive  de  I’at- 
tention,  c’est-a-dire  du  pouvoir  que  nous  avons  de  concentrer  notre  activite  et  notre 
sensibilito  sur  un  seul  objet  pour  les  distribuer  ensuite  sur  plusieurs.”  Vol.  i.  p.  125. 

* Pt.  II.  Le9on  iii. 


634 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


tempted  in  the  analysis  of  our  simpler  notions,  from  Locke  down  to 
his  own  times.  From  sensation,  as  the  most  obvious  form  of  our 
sensibility,  he  goes  back  to  reflection  ; from  reflection  he  goes  back 
to  the  power  of  perceiving  relations,  i.  e.,  to  judgment  in  its  primi- 
tive form  ; from  judgment  he  comes  at  last  to  the  moral  faculty, 
viewing  it,  also,  as  an  original  and  irreducible  fact  in  our  constitu- 
tion. The  very  manner,  indeed,  in  which  these  four  classes  of 
phenomena  are  presented,  namely,  as  different  branches  of  our 
sensitive  life,  shows  the  struggle  which  was  going  on  in  the  mind 
of  the  author,  between  the  system  he  had  left  and  the  broader  and 
deeper  views  which  were  opening  before  him.  This  struggle, 
however,  was  the  harbinger  of  better  days.  The  activity  of  the 
human  mind  was  again  vindicated ; the  majesty  of  reason  restored  ; 
and,  what  was  still  more  important,  the  moral  faculty  was  again 
raised  from  its  ruins  to  sway  its  sceptre  over  human  actions  and 
purposes.  M.  Laromiguiere,  the  ideologist,  will  always  be  viewed 
as  the  day-star  of  French  eclecticism.* 

Hitherto  there  was  no  open  revolt  manifested  against  the  author- 
ity of  Condillac  in  the  public  expositions  of  philosophy.  France 
was,  as  yet,  entirely  pledged  to  sensationalism ; and  although 
deeper  thoughts  were  stirring  in  the  minds  of  those  who,  like  M. 
Laromiguiere,  were  dissatisfied  with  the  reigning  system,  yet  no 
direct  hostility  was  shown  to  the  system  itself.  To  show  this  was 
reserved  for  M.  Royer-Collard,  whom  we  now  accordingly  intro- 
duce to  the  notice  of  our  readers.  Peter  Paul  Royer-Collard  was 
born  in  the  year  1763,  and  began  his  career  as  an  advocate  in  the 
French  Parliament.  During  the  Revolution,  he  was  one  of  those 
who,  while  advocating  the  principles  of  popular  liberty,  yet  en- 
deavored to  restrain  the  outbreaks  of  licentiousness  by  which  that 
age  was  unhappily  characterized.  In  the  year  1810  he  was  made 
Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Letters,  in  the  Normal  School  at  Paris  ; 
and  it  was  in  the  lectures  which  he  delivered  there,  from  the  year 
1811  to  1814,  that  he  laid  the  foundation  for  his  reputation  in  phi- 
losophy. It  is  to  be  lamented,  however,  that  so  small  a portion  of 
these  lectures  has  been  given  to  the  public  through  the  medium  of 
the  press.  An  introductory  discourse  forms  the  whole  of  what 
was  published  under  his  own  eye  ; and  although  his  papers  have 
been  admirably  arranged  and  edited  by  M.  Jouffroy,  as  an  adjunct 

♦ Those  who  wish  to  see  a masterly  estimate  of  M.  Laromiguiere’s  philosophical 
character,  should  read  the  funeral  oration  delivered  by  M.  Cousin,  and  inserted  in  his 

Fragments  Philosophiques.”  Also  M.  Maine  de  Biran’s  Examination  of  his  “ Le- 
90ns  de  Philosophie.” 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FEANCE. 


635 


to  his  translation  of  Dr.  Reid’s  philosophy,  yet  the  real  mind  and 
spirit  of  an  author  must  necessarily  suffer  much  when  they  are 
only  known  through  the  medium  of  posthumous  fragments.  We 
shall  attempt,  however,  as  far  as  our  means  will  admit,  to  give  the 
main  features  of  our  author’s  metaphysical  system. 

M.  Royer-Collard,  on  assuming  the  chair  of  metaphysics  at 
Paris,  boldly  commenced  by  setting  at  defiance  the  whole  authority 
of  Condillac,  and  the  ideologists ; and  though  he  stood  alone,  with- 
out any  kindred  mind  to  aid  and  sympathize  with  him  in  his  un- 
dertaking, yet  he  firmly  persisted  in  declaring  himself  the  advocate 
of  a new  philosophy.  The  student  who  has  thoroughly  mastered 
the  controversy  of  Reid  against  the  scepticism  of  his  day,  will 
have  no  difficulty  in  understanding  the  position  which  was  held  by 
M.  Royer-Collard,  as  the  professed  opponent  of  sensationalism. 
Well  instructed  in  the  philosophy  of  Scotland,  and  deeply  imbued 
with  its  spirit,  he  saw  that  he  had  to  direct  the  same  arguments 
against  Condillac,  as  Reid  had  directed  against  Hume.  He  clearly 
comprehended  that  the  ideal  system,  which  upheld  the  scepticism 
of  the  one,  equally  upheld  the  sensationalism  of  the  other,  and  that 
by  shaking  this  foundation  he  should  destroy  every  edifice  which 
could  be  erected  upon  it. 

To  make  this  more  evident,  we  must  remind  the  reader,  that 
Hume’s  argument  proceeded  somewhat  in  the  following  manner. 
First,  let  it  be  conceded  that  all  our  knowledge  of  external  things 
is  communicated  through  the  medium  of  ideas,  and  that  its  vera- 
city depends  solely  upon  the  inward  ideal  representation  being  cor- 
rect. This  point  being  established,  it  follows,  that  we  can  never 
attain  to  any  certainty  with  regard  to  the  existence  of  the  external 
world ; it  being  perfectly  impossible  to  verify  the  accuracy  of  the 
image  by  a comparison  of  it  with  the  original.  Once  grant,  then, 
that  all  our  knowledge  consists  in  ideas,  and  we  can  never  get  be- 
yond them  ; the  passage  from  the  ideal  to  the  real  can  never  be 
discovered,  and  even  if  it  could  be  discovered,  still  the  real  itself 
must  remain  to  us  perfectly  unknown.  M.  Royer-Collard  perceived 
that  if  we  admit  this  hypothesis  at  the  commencement  to  be  cor- 
rect, the  whole  train  of  reasoning  based  upon  it  was  irrefragable : 
and  he  still  further  perceived,  that  the  doctrine  of  Condillac  vir- 
tually included  in  it  all  these  consequences.  If,  as  that  philosopher 
maintained,  all  our  knowledge  is  derived  from  our  sensations,  if  our 
whole  consciousness,  in  fact,  consists  of  nothing  else,  then  why 
should  we  attribute  an  objective  reality  to  one  sensation  more  than 


636 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


another — why  should  we  suppose,  for  example,  that  the  sensation 
of  magnitude  and  extension  has  a real  and  material  object  an- 
swering to  it,  while  that  of  a sound  or  an  odor  has  none  ? 

Following  up  the  reasoning  of  Dr.  Reid,  our  author  showed  with 
great  force  and  perspicuity,  that  in  connection  with  certain  sensa- 
tions we  are  led  by  the  very  constitution  of  our  minds  to  supply  the 
further  idea  of  an  external  object,  from  which  those  particular  sen- 
sations proceed.  Reid  termed  these  primitive  judgments  principles 
of  common  sense  ; Stewart  called  them  primary  laws  of  reason ; 
M.  Royer-Collard  considered  it  to  be  a kind  of  intellectual  instinct, 
by  which  we  pass  from  the  inward  sensation  to  the  outward  reality. 
The  working  of  this  instinct  he  explains  under  the  idea  of  a natu- 
ral process  of  induction,  which  leads  us  infallibly  to  conclude  from 
the  unceasing  variety  of  sensations  which  crowd  in  upon  us,  not 
only  the  real  existence  of  external  objects,  but  also  much  concern- 
ing their  nature  and  properties.  So  far,  then,  our  author  trod  in 
the  footsteps  of  his  Scottish  instructors,  and  wielded  with  admira- 
ble success  the  weapons  of  which  they  had  first  proved  the  utility. 

Next  to  this  controversy,  M.  Royer-Collard  proceeded  to  the 
analysis  of  our  fundamental  ideas.  The  notions  we  possess  of  sub- 
stance, of  cause,  of  time,  of  space,  of  eternity,  of  infinity,  &c., 
were  all  brought  under  review ; and,  by  a most  careful  investiga- 
tion, it  was  shown  that  they  do  not  bear  the  character  of  abstrac- 
tions, or  generalizations,  made  from  experience,  but  that  they  are 
primitive  a priori  notions,  with  which  the  mind  is  furnished  as 
starting  points  for  all  its  knowledge.  After  this,  he  proceeded  to 
explain  the  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  of  duty  and  obligation,  of 
all,  in  a word,  which  peculiarly  distinguishes  our  moral  nature ; 
and  tearing  to  shreds  the  flimsy  reasoning  of  Helvetius  and  Vol- 
ney,  he  drew  forth  from  the  depths  of  the  human  consciousness  the 
indestructible  element  of  eternal  and  immutable  morality,  which 
they  had  alike  rejected  in  theory,  and  too  much  despised  in  prac- 
tice. “We  recall,”  says  one  of  his  biographers,  “the  effect  which 
his  whole  address  upon  this  subject,  so  grave,  so  powerful,  so  full 
of  emotion,  produced  upon  the  minds  of  the  hearers.  He  arrested 
the  understandings  which  he  did  not  gain,  or  which  did  not  fully 
comprehend  him  ; he  captivated  the  rest ; he  elevated,  fortified, 
and  filled  them  with  wisdom  and  with  reason  ; he  played  the  same 
part  as  did  Socrates  with  the  youth,  who  listened  to  his  instruc- 
tions.” 

From  this  brief  sketch  of  M.  Royer-Collard ’s  labors  in  the  de- 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


637 


partment  of  philosophy,  it  is  sufficiently  evident,  that  he  had  recon- 
sidered and  recast  the  whole  method  of  philosophical  research  in 
his  own  country.  No  longer  content  with  the  attempts  which  the 
ideological  school  had  been  making  to  explain  the  facts  of  our 
moral  and  intellectual  nature,  by  an  appeal  to  external  influences, 
he  felt  and  acknowledged  the  existence  of  a world  within,  the  facts 
of  which  have  to  be  observed,  classified,  and  reasoned  upon,  just  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  facts  of  the  world  without.  He  entered 
the  hidden  chamber  of  the  human  mind,  with  the  lamp  of  induc- 
tion in  his  hand ; and  if  his  life  was  neither  long  enough,  nor  calm 
enough,  to  inspect  the  whole  region  which  he  had  opened  to  view, 
yet,  having  pointed  out  the  way,  he  did  not  want  those,  among  his 
admiring  pupils,  who  were  ready  to  enter  into  his  labors,  and  carry 
them  forward  towards  their  completion.  Before  we  proceed,  how- 
ever, to  exhibit  the  efiects  of  his  instructions  upon  the  progress  of 
mental  science,  we  must  pause  to  notice  a contemporary  author, 
whose  extraordinary  philosophical  genius  has  left  many  traces 
behind  it,  not  only  in  France,  but  in  various  parts  of  Europe 
besides. 

The  author  to  whom  we  now  allude  is  M.  Maine  de  Biran,  who 
was  born  in  1766,  and  died,  too  soon  for  the  interests  of  philosophy, 
in  1824.  Maine  de  Biran  was  one  of  the  celebrated  society  of 
Auteuil,  to  which  w^e  have  before  alluded,  and  fi'om  which  all  the 
modern  philosophy  of  France  has  virtually  proceeded.  In  the  year 
1800,  the  National  Institute  offered  a prize  for  the  best  essay  “On 
the  Influence  of  Habit  upon  the  Faculty  of  Thinking,”  which  was 
awarded  to  M.  Maine  de  Biran,  as  the  successful  competitor.  In 
this  essay  he  showed  his  entire  predilection  for  the  principles  of 
ideology,  accounting  for  all  the  phenomena  of  the  human  con- 
sciousness by  the  action  and  reaction  of  the  nervous  system.  Soon 
after  this  (in  1803)  he  bore  off  another  prize  for  an  essay  “ On  the 
Decomposition  of  the  Faculty  of  Thinking,”  in  which  essay  he 
showed  the  first  signs  of  defection  from  the  philosophy  of  Con- 
dillac, and  the  first  germs  of  those  peculiar  sentiments,  for  which 
he  afterwards  became  celebrated.  In  1807  he  bore  off  fresh  honors 
from  the  Academy  of  Sciences  of  Berlin,  for  a memoir  on  the 
question  “ Whether  there  is  in  man  an  immediate  internal  intuition, 
and  in  what  it  differs  from  the  perceptions  of  the  senses.”  Other 
honors  he  gained  shortly  after  from  Copenhagen,  for  an  exposition 
of  “ The  mutual  relation  of  man’s  moral  and  physical  constitu- 
tion.” In  both  these  last  essays  he  departed  still  further  than  ever 


638 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


from  his  original  views,  and  gradually  brought  his  new  philosophy 
to  maturity.  Anxious  to  impart  his  doctrines  to  France,  he  em- 
bodied them  in  a short  work,  which  he  entitled  “ An  Examination 
of  the  Lectures  of  M.  Laromiguiere and  finally  crowned  his 
philosophical  labors  by  his  magnificent  article  on  Leibnitz  in  the 
“ Universal  Biography.”* 

The  great  fact  of  consciousness  which  M.  Maine  de  Biran  de- 
veloped with  so  much  perseverance,  was  that  of  the  activity  of  the 
human  mind — the  power  of  the  will.  This  fact  had  been  entirely 
neglected  by  the  sensational  school,  which,  only  intent  upon  the 
influence  of  the  outward  and  material,  had  altogether  banished  one 
at  least  of  our  three  fundamental  notions.  It  was  M.  Biran’s  pe- 
culiar merit  to  recall  this  notion  from  oblivion,  and  to  re-establish 
it  with  due  honor  as  a great  and  leading  idea  in  our  intellectual 
existence.  Already,  in  his  Essay  on  the  decomposition  of  thought, 
he  began  to  depart  from  bis  former  physiological  tendencies,  and 
to  assert  the  distinct  reaction  of  some  active  immaterial  principle 
upon  the  intimations  of  sense. f In  the  memoirs  of  Berlin  and 
Copenhagen  he  placed  the  activity  of  the  human  mind  in  a still 
clearer  light ; and  in  his  next  published  work — that  on  Laromi- 
guiere— he  fully  establishes  the  doctrine,  that  the  soul  is  a cause,  a 
force,  an  active  principle  ; and  that  the  phenomena  of  conscious- 
ness can  never  be  explained  until  we  clearly  apprehend  the  volun- 
tary nature  of  its  thoughts  and  impulses. 

Not  content,  however,  with  this,  he  began  next  to  ask  whether 
there  was  anything  whatever  within  the  bounds  of  existence,  which 
might  not  equally  be  reduced  to  the  notion  of  a power  or  force ; 
whether  the  idea  of  substance  itself  is  to  us  anything  more  than 
that  of  a cause ; whether,  in  a word,  the  dynamical  theory  of  the 
universe  was  not  the  one  grounded  upon  the  most  solid  and  philo- 
sophical basis.  To  this  notion  he  at  length  yielded  his  full  assent, 
and  in  his  article  on  Leibnitz  avowed  himself  a believer  in  the  spir- 
itual monadology  advocated  by  that  great  founder  of  German  ideal- 
ism. In  the  whole  of  the  process  by  which  our  author  had  grad- 
ually advanced  from  the  ideology  of  Cabanis  to  the  absolute 

* Several  philosophical  treatises  of  M.  Maine  de  Biran,  besides  those  above  men- 
tioned, have  been  published  since  his  death.  A posthumous  work,  entitled  “ Nouvelles 
Con.siderations  sur  les  Rapports  du  Physique  et  du  Moral  de  THomme,’'  was  edited  by 
M.  Cousin  in  1834,  together  with  the  examination  of  M.  Laromiguiere,  and  the  arti- 
c.'e  on  Leibnitz.  In  1841,  three  vols.  entitled  “ CEuvres  Philosophiques  de  Maine  de 
Biran,”  were  also  edited  by  M.  Cousin,  containing  all  the  other  treatises  above  referred 
to,  besides  some  additional  opuscula  and  fragments. 

f See  particularly  Part  i.  sec.  2,  on  the  Principle  of  Causality ; and  Part  ii.  chap.  2, 
on  Power,  Will,  and  Personality. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


639 


dynamical  spiritualism  of  Leibnitz,  he  had  relied  simply  upon  his 
own  power  of  reflection.  Disciple  of  none,  he  had  philosophized 
simply  within  the  region  of  his  own  consciousness  ; so  that  what- 
ever merit  some  may  deny  him,  there  are  none,  assuredly,  who  can 
reject  his  claim  to  that  of  complete  originality.  “ Of  all  the  mas- 
ters of  France,”  remarks  M.  Cousin,  “ Maine  de  Biran,  if  not  the 
greatest,  is  unquestionably  the  most  original.  M.  Laromiguiere 
only  continued  the  philosophy  of  Condillac,  modifying  it  in  a few 
important  points.  M.  Royer-Collard  came  from  the  Scottish  phi- 
losophy, which,  with  the  rigor  and  natural  power  of  his  reason,  he 
would  have  infallibly  surpassed,  had  he  completely  followed  out  the 
labors  which  form  only  the  least  solid  part  of  his  glory.  As  for 
myself,  I come  at  the  same  time  from  the  Scottish  and  German 
school.  M.  Maine  de  Biran  alone  comes  only  from  himself,  and 
from  his  own  meditations.”* 

After  this  general  notice  we  must  attempt  to  afford  our  readers 
a glance  into  some  of  the  peculiar  tenets  of  the  philosophy  now 
under  consideration.  In  order  to  unfold  the  fact  and  expound  the 
nature  of  man’s  natural  activity  (the  hinge  upon  which  the  entire 
system  turns),  M.  Maine  de  Biran  analyzes  the  whole  of  what  is 
contained  or  implied  in  a given  action  ; for  example,  a movement 
of  the  arm.  When  I move  my  arm  there  are  three  things  to  be 
observed: — 1.  The  consciousness  of  a voluntary  effort;  2.  The 
consciousness  of  a movement  produced  ; and  3.  A fixed  relation 
between  the  effort  on  the  one  hand  and  the  movement  on  the  other. 
Now,  the  source  or  cause  of  the  whole  movement  is  the  will; 
and  this  term  will  we  now  use  as  virtually  synonymous  with  self. 
Whether  we  say  I moved  my  arm,  or  my  will  moved  it,  the  senti- 
ment is  exactly  identical.  Hence  the  notions  of  cause,  of  will,  of 
self,  we  find  to  be  fundamentally  the  same ; and  several  truths  are 
by  this  means  brought  to  light  of  great  importance  in  metaphysi- 
cal science.! 

First,  it  becomes  evident  that  we  possess  a natural  activity,  the 
seat  of  which  is  in  the  will ; so  that  whether  we  regard  man  as  a 
thinking  or  an  acting  being,  yet  it  is  the  will  which  alike  presides 
over  and  regulates  the  flow  of  our  thoughts,  or  the  course  of  our 
actions.  Secondly,  we  infer  that  the  will  is  the  foundation  of  per- 
sonality ; that  my  will  is  virtually  myself  And,  thirdly,  we  infer 
that  to  will  is  to  cause,  and  that  from  the  inward  consciousness  of 

* Preface  to  the  “ Fragments  Philosophiques.” 

t Preface  to  the  “ Nouvelles  Considerations,”  p.  10. 


MODERN'  PHILOSOPHY. 


'JiO 

volition,  viewed  in  connection  with  the  effect  produced,  we  gain 
our  first  notion  of  causality.  These  three  points,  as  Cousin  has 
shown  us,  embrace  in  a small  compass  the  whole  philosophy  of  M. 
Maine  de  Biran.  He  first  seizes,  with  admirable  sagacity,  the 
principle  of  all  human  activity,  as  resident  in  the  power  of  the 
will,  exemplifying  it  even  in  the  case  of  those  muscular  movements 
which  may  appear  to  the  unreflecting  to  be  simply  the  result  of 
nervous  excitement.  Having  established  the  principle  of  activity, 
as  residing  in  the  will,  he  proceeds  to  identify  the  will  with  our  very 
personality  itself,  showing,  that  the  soul  is  in  its  nature  a force,  the 
very  essence  of  which  is  not  to  be  acted  upon,  but  to  act.  Finally, 
he  proves  that  we  gain  our  first  notion  of  causality  frorn  the  con-' 
sciousness  of  our  own  personal  effort ; and  that,  having  once  ob- 
served the  conjunction  of  power  exerted,  and  effect  produced,  in 
this  particular  case,  we  transfer  the  notion  of  cause  thus  originated 
into  the  objective  world,  and  conclude  by  analogy  the  necessity  of 
a sufficient  power  existing  for  every  given  effect.* 

M.  Maine  de  Biran  having  thus  drawn  forth,  from  the  depths  of 
his  own  consciousness,  these  undoubted  facts  of  our  voluntary  ex- 
istence— facts  which  the  sensational  school  had  neglected  or  denied 
— proceeded  to  show  how  these  facts  avail  to  explain  the  nature 
of  the  human  faculties,  and  the  origin  of  our  fundamental  ideas. 
Here,  however,  he  began  to  carry  his  principles  to  an  extreme, ' 
which  led  him  from  his  original  attachment  to  sensationalism,  at 
length,  into  the  opposite  theory  of  pure  idealism.  First  of  all,  in 
the  ardor  with  which  he  applied  the  powers  of  the  will  to  the  elu- 
cidation of  the  facts  of  our  consciousness,  he  was  induced  to 
neglect  those  other  phenomena,  which  spring  forth,  not  from  our 
voluntary,  but  from  our  rational  nature.  Hence,  as  we  before 
showed,  he  threw  a doubt  over  the  notion  of  substance,  as  being  a 
purely  rational  idea,  and  proposed  to  account  for  it  under  the 
notion  of  cause  or  force.  This  principle  expanded,  naturally  led 
to  a dynamical  theory  of  physics,  and  was  the  ground  on  which 
our  author  gave  in  his  adherence  to  the  monadology  of  Leibnitz, 
as  being  the  best  explanation  of  the  material  universe  upon  the 
dynamical  hypothesis.”! 

Had  he  rested  here,  however,  it  might  have  been  difficult  to 
show  that  he  had  carried  his  notion  of  causality  too  far,  the  dynam- 

• These  results  may  be  seen  partly  in  the  Memoire  “ De  la  Decomposition  de  la 
Pensec,”  but  more  clearly  in  the  “ Nouvelles  Considerations,”  Pt.  I.  sec.  1,  and  Pt.  II. 
•ecs.  1 and  3;  also  in  the  “ Examen  des  Lefons  de  Philsosophie,”  secs.  8 and  9. 

t Doctrine  Phil,  de  Leibnitz. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


641 


ical  system  of  the  universe  being  much  more  easy  to  deride  than 
to  disprove ; but  in  his  limitation  of  the  principle  of  causality  to 
the  idea  of  our  o-wn  personal  effort,  he  showed  the  evident  germ 
of  pure  subjective  idealism.  That  we  derive  our  first  notion  of 
cause  from  the  consciousness  of  our  own  voluntary  power  of  ac- 
tion, there  can  be  little  doubt ; but  M.  Maine  de  Biran  proceeds  to 
show  that  our  whole  notion  of  causality  is  but  the  transference  of 
this  consciousness  to  the  objective  world.  In  doing  this,  he  strips 
the  category  of  causality  of  its  necessary  and  universal  character, 
and  admits  a principle,  the  result  of  which  was  perhaps  unseen  by 
himself,  but  which  we  have  fully  carried  out  in  the  idealism  of 
Fichte.  The  universe,  affirms  M.  de  Biran,  consists  of  certain 
powers  or  causes  which  are  in  operation ; and  these  powers  or 
causes  are  only  known  as  objective  realizations  of  our  own  inward 
personal  effort.  In  other  words,  everything  is  a power,  and  all 
power  is  conceived  of  only  as  my  own  power.  This  principle  duly 
expanded  makes  self  the  absolute  ground  of  everything,  and  must 
ultimately  bring  the  subjective  form  of  ideal  philosophy  to  its  well- 
known  climax.* 

It  is  true,  M.  Maine  de  Biran  did  not  live  to  evolve  these  results ; 
but,  once  shut  up  within  his  own  subjectivity,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  but  that,  if  he  had  developed  his  whole  system  with  the  same 
logical  rigor  with  which  he  sketched  it  out,  we  must  have  had  a 
second  edition  of  Fichte’s  philosophy  indigenous  to  France.  It 
was  his  intense  absorption  in  the  contemplation  of  the  power  of 
the  will — in  the  fundamental  notion  of  self — that  led  to  the  neglect 
of  the  other  two  elements ; giving  us  another  proof  that  the  closest 
analysis,  whilst  evolving  truth,  ever  errs,  from  its  very  concentra- 
tion upon  the  question  which  it  illustrates,  and  showing  the  im- 
portance of  an  enlightened  eclecticism,  in  aiding  the  true  advance- 
ment of  philosophy.  We  must  now  come,  therefore,  to  consider 
the  metaphysical  labor  and  services  of  him,  whom  we  may  term 
the  founder  of  modern  eclecticism  in  France — I mean  Victor 
Cousin. 

M.  Cousin  was  born  in  the  year  1792,  and  entered,  whilst  quite 
young,  upon  a course  of  instruction  in  the  normal  school,  which 
was  to  fit  him  to  be  himself  an  instructor  of  the  youth  of  his  coun- 
try. In  1811,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  attend  the  captivating 
lectures  of  M.  Laromiguiere,  and,  following  them  up  soon  after  by 

* See  M.  Cousin’s  refutation  of  M.  de  Biran,  in  his  preface  to  the  “ Nouvelles  Con- 
siderations,” p.  27,  et  seq. 

41 


012 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  still  more  deep  and  earnest  philosophy  of  M.  Royer-Collard,  he 
determined  to  devote  his  whole  life  to  the  investigation  of  moral 
and  metaphysical  truth.  So  extraordinary  was  the  aptitude  which 
he  manifested  in  this  department,  that  on  the  retirement  of  M. 
Royer-Collard,  in  the  year  1815,  he  was  at  once  appointed  to  the 
vacant  chair  of  philosophy  in  the  normal  school.  For  five  years 
he  carried  on  his  labors  there  with  the  utmost  assiduity.  Ardent, 
and  even  passionate,  in  his  love  for  metaphysical  speculation,  he 
worked  onwards  with  untiring  energy  towards  the  reformation  of 
the  French  philosophy  ; and  being  endowed  by  nature  with  an  elo- 
quence extremely  rare  in  minds  devoted  to  the  most  abstruse  sub- 
jects, he  soon  fired  the  youth  who  attended  his  lectures  with  an 
enthusiasm  kindred  to  his  own.* 

In  the  year  1820,  however,  his  progress  was  arrested.  Looked 
upon  with  suspicion  by  the  contemptible  government  which  had 
been  reinstated  at  Paris,  by  the  wealth  and  blood  of  all  Europe,  he 
was  obliged  to  retire  from  his  office  in  the  normal  school  into  pri- 
vate life.  This  event,  however  unjustifiable  in  itself,  yet  contribu- 
ted in  the  end  to  the  speedier  advancement  of  philosophy  in  France. 
Having  become  already  versed  in  the  principles  of  Kant  and  Fichte, 
and  having  two  years  previously  spent  some  time  at  Heidelberg  and 
Munich  in  company  with  Jacobi,  Schelling,  and  Hegel,  Cousin  now 
embraced  the  opportunity  of  making  another  journey  beyond  the 
Rhine,  and  becoming  more  nearly  acquainted  with  the  idealistic  phi- 
losophy as  it  then  existed  in  Germany.  In  Berlin  he  renewed  his 
acquaintance  with  Hegel,  who  had  then  become  the  most  brilliant 
star  in  the  philosophical  hemisphere  of  that  country  ; and  it  is  from 
the  study  of  his  ideas  on  the  philosophy  of  history,  and  the  history 
of  philosophy,  that  the  most  attractive  features  of  the  modern  ec- 
lecticism have  to  be  dated.  In  1828,  being  recalled  from  his  ban- 
ishment, he  delivered  lectures  on  the  history  of  modern  philosophy, 
before  a brilliant  auditory,  in  Paris,  and  raised  his  reputation,  both 
for  eloquence  and  philosophy,  to  the  highest  pitch.  In  1832,  ac- 
cording to  that  noble  policy  which  reckons  learning  and  wisdom 
the  best  title  to  aristocracy,  he  was  made  a peer  of  France,  and  in 
1840  was  created  Minister  of  Public  Instruction.  His  published 
works  on  philosophy  consist — 1.  of  a succession  of  brief  articles, 
called  “Philosophical  Fragments,”  in  the  two  admirable  prefaces 
to  which,  we  have  at  once  the  most  lucid  and  succinct  portraiture 

* His  three  earliest  pupils,  MM.  Jouffroy,  Damiron,  and  Bautain,  attest  the  efficiency 
of  his  in.structions  as  a professor. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


643 


of  his  views  and  doctrines.  2.  Several  courses  of  Lectures  on  the 
History  of  Philosophy,  delivered  at  Paris,  as  above  stated.  3.  A 
course  of  Philosophy,  in  thirty-eight  Lectures,  founded  on  the  fun- 
damental notions  of  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good.  4.  Trans- 
lations or  Editions  of  Plato,  Aristotle,  Proclus,  and  other  ancient 
and  modern  philosophers  ; and,  lastly,  a course  of  admirable  Lec- 
tures on  the  Philosophy  of  Kant.^ 

This  brief  sketch  of  the  life  of  M.  Cousin  is  sufficient  at  once  to 
point  out  the  schools  in  which  he  has  studied,  and  the  influences 
under  which  he  has  lived,  thought,  and  wi’itten.  He  came  upon 
the  stage  exactly  at  the  moment  when  the  sensational  school  was 
retiring  from  its  prominent  position  in  the  public  regard.  M.  La- 
romiguiere,  though  himself,  by  profession,  an  ideologist,  yet  was 
virtually  undermining  the  doctrine  he  professed;  and  M.  Royer- 
Collard,  having  made  an  open  revolt,  cherished  and  matured  in  the 
mind  of  his  pupil  (so  soon  to  be  his  successor)  the  desire  of  carry- 
ing on  the  reformation  thus  auspiciously  commenced.  His  retire- 
ment to  Germany,  though  compelled  by  a false  act  of  arbitrary 
power,  yet  was  fortunate  in  giving  him  leisure  and  opportunity  to 
sink  down  into  the  quiet  depths  of  spiritualism,  by  which  the  Ger- 
man philosophy  is  characterized ; and,  finally,  the  public  approba- 
tion with  which  he  was  greeted  on  his  return,  all  impelled  him 
forward  in  a career,  in  which  he  seemed  destined  to  obtain  the 
highest  distinction. 

His  own  account  of  his  philosophical  experience  is  precisely  in 
accordance  with  what  we  have  just  stated.  “ M.  Laromiguiere,” 
he  remarks,  “ initiated  me  into  the  art  of  decomposing  thought ; he 
exercised  me  to  descend  from  the  most  abstract  and  general  ideas 
which  we  now  possess,  to  the  most  common  sensations,  as  their 
primary  origin ; and  to  give  an  account  of  the  play  of  the  faculties, 
whether  elementary  or  complex,  which  intervene  between  the  two. 
M.  Royer-Collard  taught  me,  that  if  these  faculties  have  any  need 
of  being  solicited  by  sensation,  in  order  to  produce  even  the  least 
idea,  yet  they  are  subjected  in  their  action  to  certain  interior  con- 
ditions ; to  certain  laws ; to  certain  principles,  which  sensation 
does  not  explain,  which  resist  all  analysis,  and  which  are  the  nat- 
ui'al  patrimony  of  the  human  mind.  With  M.  de  Biran  I studied 

♦ Of  Proclus,  Cousin  has  published  a complete  edition.  Another  and  more  complete 
course  of  lectures,  on  the  Scottish  school,  was  also  published  in  1846.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  lectures  on  Kant  and  those  on  the  Scottish  philosophy  (both  which  have 
appeared  more  recently),  I have  made  all  quotations  from  the  Brussels  edition  of  his 
works  (3  vols.  large  8vo,  1840). 


644 


MODEEN  PHILOSOPHY. 


especially  the  phenomena  of  the  will.  This  admirable  observer 
taught  me  to  disentangle,  in  all  our  notions,  and  even  in  the  most 
simple  facts  of  consciousness,  the  part  of  our  voluntary  activity — 
that  activity  in  which  our  personality  reveals  itself 

“ It  was  under  this  triple  discipline  that  I was  formed ; and  it 
was  thus  prepared  that  I entered,  in  1815,  upon  the  public  instruc- 
tion of  philosophy  in  the  normal  school,  and  the  faculty  of  letters. 

“ Before  long,  I had  exhausted,  or  thought  that  I had  exhausted, 
the  teaching  of  my  first  masters : after  France  and  Scotland,  my 
eyes  naturally  turned  to  Germany.  I then  learned  German,  and 
set  myself  to  decipher,  with  infinite  pains,  the  principal  movements 
of  the  philosophy  of  Kant,  without  any  other  aid  than  the  barbar- 
ous Latin  translation  of  Born.  I thus  lived  two  entire  years,  as 
though  buried  in  the  depths  of  the  Kantian  psychology,  and  simply 
occupied  with  the  passage  from  psychology  to  ontology.  I have 
already  said  how  psychology  itself  instructed  me,  and  how  I trav- 
ersed the  philosophy  of  Kant.  That  of  Fichte  could  not  detain 
me  long;  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  1817,  I had  left  the  first  Ger- 
man school  behind  me.”  After  stating  his  acquaintance  with 
Schelling  and  Hegel,  M.  Cousin  thus  refers  to  their  relative  merits, 
and  his  own  obligations  to  them  : — “ The  admirers  of  Hegel  con- 
sider him  as  the  Aristotle  of  another  Plato ; the  exclusive  partisans 
of  Schelling  only  see  in  him  the  Wolf  of  another  Leibnitz.  How- 
ever it  may  be  with  these  rather  lofty  comparisons,  no  one  can 
deny  that  to  the  master  has  been  given  a powerful  invention,  and 
to  the  pupil  a profound  reflection.  Hegel  has  borrowed  much  from 
Schelling ; and  as  for  myself,  much  more  feeble  than  either,  I have 
borrowed  from  both.  It  were  folly  to  reproach  me  with  this,  and 
it  is  certainly  no  great  humility  in  myself  to  acknowledge  it.”* 
After  these  few  preliminary  remarks,  we  must  now*  proceed  to 
give  our  readers  as  clear  an  insight  into  the  doctrines  and  spirit  of 
this  philosophy,  as  our  limited  space  may  admit.  In  order  to  do 
this,  we  cannot  follow  a better  guide  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
materials,  than  that  which  the  two  prefaces,  above  alluded  to,  afford 
us.  According  to  the  statements  there  made,  every  important 
question  in  philosophy  may  be  regarded  as  belonging  either — 1,  to 
the  method  of  investigation ; or,  2,  to  psychology ; or,  3,  to  ontol- 
ogy. These  three  heads,  together  with  some  peculiar  views  on  the 
history  of  philosophy,  pretty  fully  exhaust  the  topics  which  are 
treated  of  in  the  metaphysical  system  we  are  now  considering. 

» See  the  preface  to  the  second  edition  of  the  “ Fragments,”  vol.  ii.  p.  19. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


645 


I.  We  direct  our  attention  to  the  doctrine  of  method,  as  set 
forth  in  the  philosophy  of  Cousin.  There  are,  in  all,  two  grand 
methods  which  it  is  possible  to  follow  in  conducting  metaphysical 
investigations  ; and  these  are  the  rationalistic  and  the  psycholog- 
ical. The  rationalistic  method  strives  to  sink  down  at  once  into 
the  very  depths  of  existence ; to  grasp  the  absolute  or  fundamental 
principle,  from  which  everything  proceeds  ; and  then  to  explain  all 
phenomena  by  the  operation  of  this  law.  In  this  way,  for  exam- 
ple, Spinoza  deduced  everything  from  the  idea  of  substance — 
regarding  this  as  the  sole  and  universal  existence — and  making  all 
nature  but  different  modes  of  its  one  immutable  essence.  Fichte 
found  his  absolute  existence  in  the  idea  of  self,  and  from  the  law 
of  our  personal  activity,  sought  to  explain  all  the  objective  phe- 
nomena around  us.  In  like  manner,  the  reader  may  see,  by  refer- 
ring to  our  sketch  of  the  German  idealism,  how  Schelling  and 
Hegel,  each  assuming  an  absolute  existence,  and  a fundamental 
law,  deduced  from  thence  the  whole  multiplicity  of  things,  human 
and  divine.  This  process  of  logically  deducing  all  phenomena  from 
some  fundamental  principle,  is  called  by  the  German  writers  a 
construction — by  ourselves  it  would  be  termed  simply  an  hypothesis. 
Whatever  plan,  therefore,  may  be  proposed  for  construing  the  uni- 
verse, that  is,  for  deducing  the  existence  of  all  things  from  certain 
fundamental  laws,  this  plan  answers  to  our  idea  of  the  rationalistic 
method  of  philosophy. 

The  psychological  method  is,  in  many  respects,  directly  the  re- 
verse of  this.  Instead  of  beginning  with  the  fundamental  law  of 
our  being,  it  first  of  all  cautiously  looks  out  upon  the  facts  of 
human  nature,  which  present  themselves  to  our  attention.  These 
facts  it  attempts  to  observe  and  to  classify ; and  thus  graduall}'^  to 
discover  the  law  or  principle  by  which  they  recur.  The  one 
method  is  deductive,  the  other  inductive ; the  one  is  synthetical, 
the  other  analytical ; the  one  starts  from  the  general,  and  descends 
to  the  particular;  the  other  begins  with  particular  facts,  and  as- 
cends to  the  general ; the  one  is  the  ancient  method  of  philosophy 
applied  to  metaphysical  truth ; the  other  is  the  modern  Baconian 
organum,  carried  into  the  region  of  mental  science.  Now,  of  these 
two  methods.  Cousin  advocates,  with  all  earnestness  and  decision. 
the  latter.  He  considers  mental  science  to  be  a science  of  facts, 
as  well  as  all  other ; he  applies  the  aid  of  observation  and  experi- 
ment here,  as  well  as  everywhere  else ; in  a word,  he  views  it  as 
one  legitimate  branch  of  inductive  philosophy. 


646 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Wliilst,  however,  he  decides  for  the  psychological  method,  he  is 
careful  to  free  it  from  those  defects  under  which  it  has  ever  labored 
in  the  hands  of  sensationalism.  The  method  may  prove  deficient 
from  two  causes ; either  from  not  starting  with  a due  observation 
of  facts  as  the  data,  or  from  not  reasoning  upon  them  with  patience 
and  accuracy.  Locke,  for  example,  although  admirably  adapted 
to  reason  upon  the  facts  presented,  did  not  begin  with  a sufficiently 
wide  observation,  and  thus  vitiated  many  of  his  results.  The  fol- 
lowers of  Locke  betrayed  a still  greater  deficiency ; for  not  only 
did  they  exclude  many  undeniable  facts  of  our  rational  and  moral 
nature  from  their  system,  but  they  reasoned  upon  what  facts  they 
did  admit  in  so  perverted  a strain,  as  often  to  change  their  very 
character,  confounding  all  the  phenomena  of  memory,  of  judg- 
ment, of  the  emotions,  &c.,  with  those  of  simple  sensation.  The 
psychological  method,  therefore,  in  the  hands  of  Cousin,  demand.s 
that  we  enter  by  reflection  into  the  innermost  chambers  of  the  soul ; 
that  we  investigate  every  fact  of  the  consciousness  which  presents 
itself  there,  with  the  utmost  accuracy ; and,  lastly,  that,  having 
obtained  these  data,  we  reason  upon  them  with  precision,  and  de- 
duce everything  which  seems  to  be  warranted  by  the  rules  of 
sound  logic.  Such  is  the  method  by  which  Cousin  proposes  to 
prosecute  the  study  of  intellectual  science.* 

II.  We  come  to  psychology  itself,  i.  e.  the  application  of  the 
method  just  decribed  to  the  elucidation  of  the  ideas  and  faculties 
of  the  human  mind.  Admonished  on  the  one  hand  by  the  over- 
simplification of  the  ideological  school,  and  on  the  other  by  the 
very  imperfect  classification  advanced  by  the  Scottish  system  in 
the  hands  of  Reid  and  Stewart,  Cousin  has  taken  the  middle  course 
between  the  two.  Without  entering  at  length  into  the  grounds  on 
which  he  has  reasoned  the  subject  out  in  his  own  mind,  we  state 
at  once,  that  he  enumerates  amongst  the  facts  of  our  conscious- 
ness three  generic  classes; — 1.  Those  of  the  Will ; 2.  Those  of 
the  Reason ; 3.  Those  of  Sensation.  1.  With  regard  to  our 
natural  activity,  M.  Cousin  has  adopted  almost  entirely  the  theory 
of  M.  Maine  de  Biran.  The  principal  points  in  this  theory  are 
these  two — that  the  whole  groundwork  of  our  activity  is  in  the 
will ; and  that  it  is  the  will  which  peculiarly  constitutes  our  dis- 
tinct "personality.  The  peculiarity  of  those  things  which  possess 
no  personality  is,  that  they  are  entirely  under  external  influence. 
For  this  reason,  nature  is  impersonal.  It  has  no  source  of  power 
♦ Vol.  ii.  pp.  11  and  12;  also,  vol.  i.  p.  247,  et  scg. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


647 


in  itself;  it  is  absolutely  at  the  command  and  in  the  hands  of  some 
extrinsic  agency.  Just  such,  also,  would  man  be  without  the  will. 
Sensations  are  produced  by  dii'ect  impulse  from  the  external 
world — ideas  of  pure  reason  arise  spontaneously  from  the  very 
constitution  of  our  faculties ; both  the  one  and  the  other  influence 
us  as  certainly  and  as  necessarily  as  outward  force  influences  the 
material  objects  around  us.  It  is  the  will  alone,  therefore,  which 
makes  us  free  agents. 

Previously  to  the  development  of  the  will,  man  is  but  a part  and 
parcel  of  the  natural  universe ; he  is  a unit  which  is  at  the  abso- 
lute disposal  of  the  forces,  physical  or  spiritual,  in  the  midst  of 
which  he  is  situated.  The  moment,  however,  we  are  conscious  of 
an  inward  power,  which  we  variously  term  activity,  liberty,  will, 
that  moment  we  assume  a new  character  in  the  world.  Far  from 
being  now  passively  given  up  to  the  agency  of  other  causes,  we 
become  in  our  turn  a cause  which  reacts  upon  them,  and  which 
does  its  part,  whether  it  be  greater  or  less,  in  directing  the  future 
course  of  our  life.  This  will,  therefore,  is  in  a peculiar  sense  the 
man  himself.  While  his  sensations  and  his  ideas  are  fatal,  origi- 
nating from  without  (the  one  teaching  him  contingent,  the  other 
necessary  truth),  the  determinations  of  the  will  originate  from 
within,  and  going  forth  from  our  own  activity,  enstamp  every- 
thing to  which  they  apply  with  the  impress  of  personality. 

To  this  fact  of  liberty,  moreover,  there  not  only  attaches  itself 
the  notion  of  personality,  but,  also,  that  of  moral  obligation.  Sent 
forth,  as  we  are,  not  subject  to  an  unconditional  necessity,  but  in- 
trusted with  the  power  of  the  will,  we  are  under  the  moral  obliga- 
tion of  exerting  ourselves  for  the  accomplishment  of  our  proper 
destiny  in  the  world.  Wherever  man  goes,  he  carries  with  him  his 
power;  and,  consequently,  has  both  his  duties  and  his  rights. 
Thus,  in  a word,  the  whole  aspect  of  our  moral,  social,  and  politi- 
cal life,  with  all  their  spheres  of  activity,  spring  from  the  funda- 
mental fact,  that,  endowed  with  liberty,  we  are  the  master  of  our 
own  actions,  which  actions  have  at  once  to  be  restrained  from  in- 
juring the  inviolable  rights  of  others,  and  to  be  so  directed,  as  to 
fulfil  the  requirements  of  our  own  personal  obligations.*  Without 
dwelling,  however,  upon  this  branch  of  psychology,  we  pass  on  to 
that  which  M.  Cousin  has  elaborated  with  the  greatest  care  and 
ability  ; I mean, 

* Vol.  ii.  p.  33 — 36.  See,  also,  the  preface  to  the  posthumous  works  of  M.  Maine 
de  Biran,  vol.  ii.  p.  148. 


648 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


2.  The  phenomena  of  our  rational  or  intellectual  life.  The  first 
thing  to  be  accomplished  in  analyzing  this  part  of  our  nature,  is  to 
reduce  the  multiplicity  of  facts,  which  at  once  present  themselves, 
to  their  primary  elements.  Almost  all  philosophers  have  recognized 
the  importance  of  such  a reduction,  but  very  few  have  attempted 
to  perform  it.  Of  these  few,  Aristotle  classified  our  notions  from 
the  objective  point  of  view ; and  in  his  table  of  categories,  gave  us 
a complete  list  of  those  “ summa  genera,”  to  one  of  which  every 
individual  object  that  we  have  any  knowledge  of  belongs.  Kant, 
after  the  revolution  of  many  centuries,  produced  another  table  of 
categories,  made  from  the  subjective  point  of  view,  in  which  table 
he  has  given  us  a deduction  of  all  those  laws  or  forms  of  the  un- 
derstanding, by  which  the  material  of  our  knowledge  is  shaped  into 
distinct  ideas.  Cousin,  again,  takes  up  the  same  great  problem, 
applies  to  it  a closer  method  of  analysis  learned  from  the  schools  of 
modern  idealism,  and  comes  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  whole  phe- 
nomena of  our  reason  may  be  reduced  to  three  integrant  and  in- 
separable elements,  which  at  once  constitute  its  true  nature,  and 
govern  all  its  manifestations. 

The  first  of  these  elements  is  that  which  is  variously  expressed 
under  the  terms  unity,  identity,  the  absolute,  the  infinite.  This  w'e 
term  the  category  of  substance,  as  being  the  one  immutable  essence 
of  the  Eleatics  and  of  Spinoza.  The  second  of  these  elements  is 
that  which,  in  direct  opposition  to  the  former,  we  term  plurality, 
difference,  the  conditioned,  the  finite,  the  phenomenal.  This  we 
name  the  category  of  causality,  as  being  the  principle  of  all  change, 
of  all  the  passing  phenomena  of  the  universe.  Now,  these  two 
categories  are  not  to  be  viewed  as  separated  from  each  other — 
they  are,  in  fact,  indissolubly  united.  The  absolute  can  only  man- 
ifest itself  in  the  phenomenal — the  phenomenal  only  subsists  in  the 
absolute ; which  facts,  accordingly,  give  rise  to  a third  element  or 
category,  namely,  that  of  the  mutual  relation  which  these  two  pri- 
mary notions  bear  to  one  another.  According  to  Cousin,  these 
three  elements  manifest  themselves  wherever  the  human  reason  is 
seen  in  operation.  They  form  the  type,  as  it  were,  under  which 
every  subject  is  viewed,  and  absolutely  govern  the  whole  develop- 
ment of  an  intellectual  nature.  To  give  an  idea  of  the  extensive 
application  which  is  made  of  this  doctrine  of  categories,  we  sub- 
join the  following  list,  which  shows  them  as  reproduced  in  the 
various  spheres  of  human  thought  or  activity : — 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


649 


First  Category.  Second  Category.  Third  Category. 

Unity Multiplicity 

Absolute  Space  ....  Bounded  Space  .... 

Absolute  Existence  . . . Dependent  Existence  . . 

Eternity Time  .... 

Infinite Finite  . . . 

Primary  Cause  ....  Secondary  Cause 

Substance Phenomena 

Mind Thoughts  . . 

Beau  Ideal Beau  Real  . . 

The  Perfect The  Imperfect  . 

Contraction Expansion  . . 

Subject Object  . . . 

Thus  we  see  thought,  morals,  science,  the  fine  arts,  nature,  in  a 
word,  every  subject  of  human  contemplation,  appearing  under  the 
type  of  this  trinity,  that  emanates  from  the  fundamental  laws  of 
our  nature.”* 

But  now  comes  a most  important  inquiry,  namely,  how  far  these 
dictates  of  our  reason  possess  authority ; i.  e.,  how  far  we  can  de- 
pend upon  them  as  unfolding  truth,  not  merely  as  it  appears  to  us, 
but  as  it  really  exists  in  its  own  intrinsic  nature.  It  is  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  this  question  that  we  come  to  some  of  those  peculiar 
doctrines  which  belong  alone  to  Cousin  and  his  school  of  philosophy. 
Instead  of  admitting  that  our  knowledge  is  relative,  that  we  see 
truth  only  as  it  stands  in  connection  with  ourselves,  that  we  have 
no  other  pledge  of  its  objective  accuracy  than  the  perfection  of  the 
instrument  by  which  we  attain  it,  he  contends  that  the  truths  with 
which  reason  is  conversant  are  absolute,  and  that  they  both  are, 
and  ever  must  be,  precisely  as  we  see  them,  altogether  independent 
of  ourselves,  and  of  the  medium  through  which  they  are  known. 
So  far,  indeed,  he  is  only  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  his  German 
instructors ; but  with  respect  to  the  grounds  on  which  the  point  is 
argued,  he  stands  quite  by  himself.  There  are  two  chief  argu- 
ments which  Cousin  uses  to  prove  the  absoluteness  of  our  knowl- 
edge. 

The  first  is  derived  from  the  impersonality  of  reason.  In  this 
point  he  shows  the  philosophy  of  Kant  to  be  altogether  erroneous. 
That  philosopher  made  all  our  necessary  ideas  and  a priori  con- 
ceptions to  be  simply  the  results  of  the  subjective  laws  of  our  own 
minds.  All  abstract  truth  was  to  him  but  the  personification,  or 
the  reflection,  of  our  own  intellectual  constitution.  The  two  forms 
of  our  sensational  life — time  and  space  ; the  twelve  categories  of 
the  understanding ; the  three  regulative  principles  of  the  pure 
reason  giving  origin  to  our  notions  of  the  soul,  the  universe,  and 
* Vol.  i.  pp.  31-34.  Vol.  ii.  p.  33. 


► Relation  between  them. 


650 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


God,  all  had,  in  the  Kantian  system,  no  objective  validity  what- 
ever. The  germ  of  Fichte’s  subjective  idealism,  in  fact,  was 
already  latent  in  the  philosophy  of  Konigsberg. 

Now,  to  contravene  these  false  and  sceptical  results.  Cousin 
labors  to  prove,  that  the  dictates  of  pure  reason  are  not  merely 
personal,  that  they  do  not  simply  express  what  seems  to  be  real, 
according  to  the  constitution  of  our  own  faculties,  but  that  they 
are  the  direct  reflection  of  absolute  and  eternal  things.  The  will, 
we  are  conscious,  is,  in  all  its  various  efforts,  enstamped  with  the 
impress  of  our  personality;  our  volitions  are  our  own,  our  desires 
are  our  own,  our  emotions  are  our  own  ; that  which  we  experience 
of  all  such  phenomena  is  not  experienced  in  the  same  manner  by 
any  one  else.  But  not  so  in  the  case  of  our  intellectual  judgments. 
Necessary  truth  does  not  belong  to  one  human  being  more  than 
another,  it  has  no  element  of  human  personality  about  it — it  is  the 
common  patrimony  of  every  rational  nature — a direct  emanation 
from  God.  Such  being  the  case,  the  decision  of  reason,  within  its 
own  peculiar  province,  possesses  an  authority  almost  Divine ; if 
we  are  led  astray  by  it,  we  must  be  led  astray  by  a light  from 
heaven.”* 

But  the  question  now  arises.  How  can  we  strip  any  fact  of  our 
own  consciousness  of  its  personality?  Our  rational  judgments 
and  a priori  conceptions,  it  might  be  argued,  are  as  much  phe- 
nomena of  our  own  individual  minds,  as  are  our  volitions,  desires, 
or  emotions.  Admit  that  a truth  appears  to  be  absolute  and  neces- 
sary, yet  it  only  appears  so  by  virtue  of  the  constitution  of  our  own 
intellects.  How,  then,  can  we  establish  the  objective  validity  of 
anything,  when  it  is  certain  that  everything  must  be  seen  only 
through  the  medium  of  our  own  subjective  consciousness  ? 

This  leads  us  to  the  second  ground  on  which  Cousin  argues  the 
authority  of  reason  ; one  which  is  derived  from  the  distinction  be- 
tween its  spontaneous  and  its  rejlective  movements.  When  we  take 
up  a subject  designedly,  when  we  search  into  its  evidences,  when 
we  put  in  array  the  arguments  for  and  against,  and  at  length  draw 
our  conclusion,  we  term  this  step  a rejlective  process.  The  subject 
has,  by  this  process,  to  be  analyzed  or  separated  into  its  component 
elements ; and  then  the  truth  of  the  whole  to  be  deduced  from  the 
validity  of  the  parts.  Now  here,  there  are  abundant  opportunities 
for  errors  to  creep  in.  The  analysis  may  be  incomplete — some  of 
the  parts,  for  example,  may  be  omitted,  others  may  occupy  a too 
♦ Vol.  ii.  p.  32 ; also  “ Le9ons  sur  la  Philosophie  de  Kant,"  lec.  8. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


651 


prominent,  or  too  subordinate  place  ; in  a hundred  different  ways 
the  conclusion,  as  a whole,  may  be  vitiated.  Reason,  therefore, 
when  it  operates  rejiectively,  can  have  no  absolute  authority — it  is 
involved  in  all  the  imperfections  of  our  own  personality.  There  is, 
however,  another  process  by  which  we  arrive  at  knowledge,  or 
truth,  and  that  a purely  spontaneous  one.  There  are  moments  of 
thought  in  which  the  mind  mingles  up  no  element  whatever  of  its 
own  personality.  It  does  not  analyze,  it  does  not  search,  it  does  not 
voluntarily  attend,  it  does  not  even  reflect ; but  yet  there  is  a dis- 
tinct apperception  of  certain  truths  which  it  simply  receives.  Al- 
most every  one  must  be  conscious,  that  his  best  thoughts  come 
upon  him  like  flashes  of  inspiration ; and  that  when  he  has  most 
lulled  to  rest  the  workings  of  his  own  personal  effort,  then  most 
he  seems  to  stand  in  the  unobstructed  light  of  eternal  things.  If, 
therefore,  there  be  a direct  and  immediate  apperception  of  absolute 
truth — if  there  be  moments  in  which  the  mind  receives  the  pure 
light  of  heaven  without  any  intermixture  of  its  own  personality, 
then  reason,  viewed  as  a spontaneous  principle,  must  possess  an 
authority  which  cannot  be  gainsayed  or  resisted. 

That  such  an  internal  apperception  really  exists,  Cousin  con- 
siders to  be  an  unquestionable  fact  which  may  be  verified  by  ob- 
servation. We  subjoin  his  own  words.  “ It  is  by  observation,” 
he  remarks,  “ that  within  the  penetralia  of  the  consciousness,  and 
at  a depth  to  which  Kant  never  descended,  under  the  apparent 
relativeness  and  subjectivity  of  necessary  principles,  I have  suc- 
ceeded in  seizing  and  analyzing  the  instantaneous,  but  veritable 
fact  of  the  spontaneous  apperception  of  truth — an  apperception 
which,  not  immediately  reflecting  itself,  passes  unperceived  in  the 
depths  of  the  consciousness  ; yet  is  the  real  basis  of  that,  which 
later  under  a logical  form,  and  in  the  hands  of  reflection,  becomes 
a necessary  conception.  All  subjectivity  and  reflectivity  expires 
in  the  spontaneity  of  apperception.  But  the  primitive  light  is  so 
pure,  that  it  is  unperceived ; it  is  the  reflected  light  which  strikes 
us,  but  often  in  doing  so,  sullies  with  its  faithless  lustre  the  purity 
of  the  former.  Reason  becomes  subjective  by  its  connection  with 
the  free  and  voluntary  Me,  which  is  the  type  of  all  subjectivity; 
but  in  itself  it  is  impersonal,  it  does  not  appertain  any  more  to  one 
than  to  another,  it  does  not  even  appertain  to  humanity  as  a whole, 
its  laws  emanate  only  from  itself.*  Such  is  the  chief  ground  on 

* Vol.  ii.  p.  33,  “ On  the  Impersonality  and  Spontaneity  of  Reason  see  also  vol.  i. 
pp.  44r-47,  3ti9,  388,  392,  and  vol.  ii.  p.  118. 


652 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which  Cousin  repels  the  latent  scepticism  of  a too  subjective  phi- 
losophy, and  such  the  method  by  which  he  proposes  to  place  the 
lofty  authority  of  reason,  as  an  evidence  for  objective  reality,  upon 
an  immovable  foundation. 

3.  We  pass  on  now  to  the  third  division  of  psychology;  that, 
namely,  which  takes  cognizance  of  the  phenomena  of  sensation. 
Sensation  with  Cousin,  as  with  most  other  philosophers,  is  the  fac- 
ulty which  acquaints  us  with  the  various  facts  and  changes  of  the 
outward  world.  In  saying  this,  however,  we  do  not  pronounce 
anything  upon  the  nature  of  objective  existence  around  us ; we  do 
not  decide,  for  example,  whether  it  be  material  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  term,  or  whether  it  be  not.  That  there  are  real  phe- 
nomena, independent  of  ourselves — that  there  is  a Not-me  limiting 
and  opposing  the  Me,  our  consciousness  in  every  sensation  attests ; 
but  it  has  yet  to  be  shown  what  may  be  the  nature,  and  what  the 
constitution,  of  this  outward  existence.  The  common  sense  of 
mankind  regards  it  as  consisting  of  hard,  impenetrable,  and  pas- 
sive material ; in  short,  of  atoms,  characterized  by  nothing  except 
their  vis  inertice.  But  is  this  dictate  of  common  sense  to  be  ac- 
cepted as  philosophically  correct  ? or  does  metaphysical  analysis 
place  the  question  in  any  other  and  clearer  light  ? Let  us  view 
the  evidence  of  the  case. 

The  moment  we  begin  to  reflect,  we  are  conscious  of  certain 
states  of  mind  produced  within  us  from  some  source  out  of  our- 
selves. But,  by  a law  of  our  reason,  whenever  we  experience 
change,  either  within  or  around  us,  we  necessarily  attribute  that 
change  to  some  cause.  Hence,  the  primary  notion  we  must  have 
of  the  external  world  is  that  of  an  assemblage  of  causes,  which  are 
able  to  produce  given  effects.  These  causes,  of  course,  we  refer 
to  some  real  existence,  which  is  the  principle,  or  substratum,  on 
which  they  depend  ; that  is,  we  view  them  under  the  notion  of 
certain  finite,  but  independent  forces,  which  bound,  resist,  or  mod- 
ify the  exertions  of  our  own  volition.  Let  us  put  the  question  in 
another  light.  All  our  knowledge  of  external  natui'e  arises  from 
internal  impressions  made  by  it,  through  the  medium  of  sensation, 
upon  the  mind.  But  what  is  it  that  can  create  impressions  ? Man- 
ifestly/loiDers,  forces,  causes,  something  that  is  active  and  produc- 
tive of  impulse : nothing  that  is  barely  passive,  as  matter  is  gene- 
rally accustomed  to  be  viewed,  can  possibly  do  so.  Science,  in 
fact,  has  at  length  come  to  view  all  material  existence  in  this  light. 
The  principles  of  mechanics  are  entirely  comprised  in  the  doc- 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


653 


trines  of  statical  and  dynamical /orces ; that  is  to  say,  all  material 
phenomena  are  viewed  as  the  productions  of  certain  powers,  act- 
ing with  different  intensities,  and  in  different  directions.  “ What 
natural  philosopher,”  says  our  author,  “since  Euler,  seeks  after 
anything  beyond  forces  and  laws  ? Who  speaks  now  of  atoms  ? 
And  even  with  respect  to  molecules,  the  newer  form  in  which 
atoms  have  been  view^ed,  who  regards  them  otherwise  than  as  an 
hypothesis  ? If  this  fact  is  incontestable,  if  modern  science  occu- 
pies itself  only  with  forces  and  laws,  I conclude  rigorously  from 
hence,  that  natural  philosophy,  whatever  it  may  know,  or  not 
know,  is  by  no  means  materialistic,  that  it  became  spiritualistic 
the  very  day  it  rejected  all  other  methods,  except  observation  and 
induction,  which  can  lead  us  to  nothing  but  forces  and  laws.”* 

From  these  and  similar  remarks,  it  is  abundantly  evident  that 
Cousin  is  to  be  regarded  as  an  idealist,  although  certainly  of  a very 
moderate  kind,  when  compared  with  the  German  school  in  which 
he  was  instructed.  He  does  not  lose  sight  of  the  fundamental  idea 
of  nature  : far  from  it ; he  makes  it  play  a very  important  part  in 
his  system ; but  he  entirely  denies  its  passive,  inert,  atomic  char- 
acter ; he  views  it  all  under  the  type  of  power  or  cause ; in  short, 
he  makes  it  homogeneous  with  mind,  only  mind  in  its  low^er  and 
as  yet  unconscious  development.  Perhaps  we  should  not  be 
wrong  in  placing  him  by  the  side  of  M.  de  Biran  and  Leibnitz,  as 
the  advocate  of  a dynamical  system  of  monadology ; indeed,  with 
reference  to  the  latter,  he  says,  “ The  more  I advance,  and  the 
more  I believe  in  philosophy,  the  more  clearly  I seem  to  see  into 
the  mind  of  that  great  man ; and  all  my  progress  consists  in  un- 
derstanding him  better.” 

Here  we  must  close  our  sketch  of  Cousin’s  psychology  ; brief  as 
our  explanations  have  necessarily  been,  we  trust  that  the  careful 
reader  may  gain  from  them  a correct  idea  of  its  general  nature ; 
and  if  not,  he  has  only  to  betake  himself  to  the  two  prefaces  pre- 
fixed to  the  “ Philosophical  Fragments,”  in  order  to  gain  the  most 
definite  views  on  this  part  of  his  philosophy. 

III.  We  must  now  go  on  to  the  third  point  which  was  to  claim 
our  attention,  and  that  is.  Cousin’s  Ontology.  There  are  three  dif- 
ferent lights  in  which  the  subject  of  ontology  has  been  viewed  by 
modern  philosophers.  First,  by  the  German  idealistic  writers  it 
has  been  regarded  as  the  starting  point  of  all  intellectual  science,  f 

* Vol.  ii.  p.  37. 

t Also  by  the  Abbe  de  Lamennais  in  his  “ Elsquissc  d’une  Philosophie.” 


654 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Commencing  with  the  notion  of  being,  in  its  most  general  and  ab- 
stract character,  they  proceed  to  add  to  it  one  attribute  after  the 
other,  until  they  have  philosophically  constructed  the  entire  uni- 
verse. The  whole  problem  of  the  German  metaphysics  is,  in  fact, 
to  determine  what  is  the  prime  absolute  essence  from  which  all 
things  proceed,  and  then  to  expand  the  law  by  which  bare  exist- 
ence rises,  through  all  the  multiplicity  of  its  changes  and  grada- 
tions, to  its  most  pregnant  and  most  fully  developed  character. 
These  systems,  therefore,  are  exclusively  ontological. 

Secondly,  the  English  and  Scottish  writers  generally  interdict 
the  ontological  branch  of  philosophy,  as  lying  beyond  the  reach  of 
our  faculties.  Intellectual  science  with  them  is  confined,  for  the 
most  part,  to  psychology,  that  is,  to  the  analysis  and  classification 
of  our  mental  phenomena.  Whatever  the  universal  testimony  of 
the  human  faculties  attests,  that  they  accept  as  being  true  “ quoad 
nos,”  and  on  this  principle  they  refute  the  pretensions  of  scepti- 
cism ; but  they  do  not  admit  the  possibility  of  attaining  to  the  mys- 
teries of  absolute  existence,  or  of  expounding  what,  independently 
of  our  own  perceptions,  is  the  essential  constitution  of  anything 
whatever.  Now,  Cousin  regards  these  two  opinions  as  extremes, 
both  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  avoid.  In  place  of  commencing, 
as  the  Germans  do,  with  ontology,  he  affirms  that  the  psychologi- 
cal method  is  the  only  true  one  ; that  we  can  only  properly  begin 
by  an  analysis  of  the  facts  of  our  conscious  existence ; but,  instead 
of  bounding  himself  by  the  limits  of  psychology,  he  affirms  the 
possibility  of  finding  a solid  passage  from  the  subjective  world  to 
the  objective — from  phenomena  to  real  existence.  Since  reason 
is  not  personal  in  its  nature,  but  receives  truth  spontaneously,  by 
direct  and  immediate  apperception,  he  considers  that  we  may,  by 
the  medium  of  this  faculty,  attain  at  once  to  the  knowledge  of  es- 
sential and  absolute  existence."^ 

Existence  appears  to  us  under  three  different  forms.  First  of 
all,  we  are  conscious  of  our  own  personal  and  voluntary  energy ; 
this  we  are  led  by  reason  to  attribute  to  an  essential  and  ever- 
abiding  existence,  which  we  term  self,  or  the  me.  Again,  reason 
in  like  manner  instructs  us,  whenever  we  are  conscious  of  some 
outward  influence  exerted  upon  us  through  the  medium  of  sensa- 
tion, to  attribute  this  influence  to  real  and  essential  causes,  the  ag- 
gregate of  which  we  term  nature.  But  both  self  and  nature  are 
finite ; they  cannot,  therefore,  be  self-existent  or  absolute,  and  must 

♦ Vol.  ii.  p.  15. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


655 


consequently  have  proceeded  from  another  source,  which  bears  the 
attributes  of  self-existence,  infinity,  eternity.  Here,  then,  reason 
leads  us  to  the  absolute  essence  from  which  all  things  proceed,  by 
which  all  things  are  sustained,  in  which  all  things  subsist ; and  that 
essence  is  God. 

According  to  this  view,  it  is  evident  that  God  comprehends  the 
universe  in  himself,  and  that  all  finite  existence  is  but  the  emana- 
tion from  his  infinite  existence.  Still  Cousin  does  not  view  Deity 
by  any  means  in  the  pantheistic  light,  which  was  advocated  by 
Spinoza  and  the  Eleatics.  “ The  God  of  consciousness  (we  quote 
his  own  words)  is  not  an  abstract  God,  a solitary  sovereign,  ban- 
ished beyond  creation  upon  the  throne  of  a silent  eternity  and  an 
absolute  existence,  which  resembles  existence  in  no  respect  what- 
ever ; he  is  a God  at  once  true  and  real,  at  once  substance  and 
cause,  always  substance  and  always  cause ; being  substance  only 
inasmuch  as  he  is  cause,  and  being  cause  only  inasmuch  as  he  is 
substance ; that  is  to  say,  being  absolute  cause,  one  and  many, 
eternity  and  time,  essence  and  life,  end  and  middle,  at  the  summit  of 
existence  and  at  its  base,  infinite  and  finite  together ; in  a word, 
a Trinity,  being  at  the  same  time  God,  Nature,  and  Humanity.”* 

Cousin’s  view  of  the  Divine  nature  is  confessedly  somewhat  re- 
condite and  indistinct.  While  on  the  one  hand  he  altogether  re- 
pudiates the  charge  of  pantheism,  yet  on  the  other  hand  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  say  how  his  opinions,  as  above  described,  can  be  altogether 
vindicated  from  it.  Time,  perhaps,  will  show  how  far  he  has 
grasped,  or  how  far  misconceived,  the  whole  subject.  There  is 
one  point,  however,  upon  which  Cousin  has  expressed  himself  with 
great  clearness  and  precision,  and  that  is  the  essential  comprehen- 
sibility of  the  Absolute  by  the  human  mind.  This  is,  in  fact,  a 
principal  feature  in  his  philosophy.  He  considers  that  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Absolute  as  a fundamental  notion,  and  a constitu- 
tive principle  of  the  human  intelligence,  is  his  chief  merit  as  a 
philosopher,  and  upon  this  he  grounds  the  peculiar  claims  of  his 
modern  system  of  eclecticism. 

Now,  of  all  questions  which  philosophy  proposes  for  our  investi- 
gation, there  is  probably  not  one  so  difficult  to  sound  to  its  depths, 
not  one  on  which  the  greatest  thinkers  have  so  much  differed,  as 
upon  this.  Sir  William  Hamilton  has  reduced  the  philosophical 
hypotheses,  which  have  obtained  respecting  our  knowledge  of  the 
absolute  or  unconditioned,  to  four  distinct  heads  : — 1.  The  Abso- 

* Vol.  ii.  p.  17. 


650 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


lute  is  altogether  inconceivable,  every  notion  we  have  of  it  being 
simply  a negation  of  that  which  characterizes  finite  and  conditioned 
existence.  This  opinion  he  holds  himself  in  common  with  the 
English  and  Scottish  schools  of  modern  times.  2.  The  Absolute, 
though  not  an  object  of  real  knowledge,  yet  exists  subjectively 
within  our  consciousness  as  a regulative  principle.  Kant  held  this 
opinion : he  believed  that  pure  reason  necessarily  gives  rise  to  the 
notion  of  the  infinite  and  unconditioned,  which  notion  we  view 
under  the  threefold  type  of  the  soul,  the  universe,  and  the  Deity ; 
but  he  did  not  admit  the  objective  reality  of  these  conceptions. 
He  regarded  them  merely  as  personifications  of  our  own  subjective 
laws  or  processes.  3.  The  Absolute  cannot  be  comprehended  in 
consciousness  and  reflection ; but  it  can  be  gazed  upon  by  a higher 
faculty,  that  of  intellectual  intuition.  This  is  the  well-known  doc- 
trine upon  which  Schelling  has  erected  his  system  of  philosophy. 
4.  The  Absolute  can  be  grasped  by  reason,  and  brought  within  the 
compass  of  our  real  consciousness.  Such  is  the  theory  of  Cousin 
himself. 

Now,  here  we  have  three  minds  standing  severally  at  the  head 
of  the  respective  philosophies  of  Britain,  France,  and  Germany, 
assuming  each  a different  hypothesis  on  this  subject ; while  Kant, 
the  Aristotle  of  the  modern  world,  assumes  a fourth.  Under  such 
circumstances  he  must  be  a bold  thinker,  who  ventures  to  pro- 
nounce confidently  upon  the  truth  or  error  of  any  one  of  these 
opinions.  Few,  perhaps,  in  our  own  country  would  be  inclined  to 
side  either  with  Kant  or  Schelling ; the  great  point  of  dispute  is  most 
likely  to  be  between  Sir  W.  Hamilton  and  M.  Cousin  ; that  is  to 
say,  whether  the  infinite,  the  absolute,  the  unconditioned,  be  really 
cognizable  by  the  human  reason,  or  whether  it  be  not ; whether 
our  notion  of  it  be  positive,  or  whether  it  be  only  negative.  And 
here  we  freely  confess  that  we  are  not  yet  prepared  to  combat,  step 
by  step,  the  weighty  arguments  by  which  the  Scottish  metaphysician 
seeks  to  establish  the  negative  character  of  this  great  fundamental 
conception ; neither,  on  the  other  hand,  are  we  prepared  to  admit 
his  inference.  We  cannot  divest  our  minds  of  the  belief,  that  there 
is  something  positive  in  the  glance  which  the  human  soul  casts 
upon  the  world  of  eternity  and  infinity.  Whether  we  rise  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  Absolute  through  the  medium  of  the  true,  the 
beautiful,  or  the  good,  we  cannot  imagine  that  our  highest  concep- 
tions of  these  terminate  in  darkness,  in  a total  negation  of  all 
knowledge.  So  far  from  this,  there  seem  to  be  flashes  of  light,  in- 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


657 


ftffable  it  may  be,  but  still  real,  which  envelop  the  soul  in  a lustre 
all  divine,  when  it  catches  glimpses  of  infinite  truth,  infinite  beauty, 
and  infinite  excellence.  The  mind,  instead  of  plunging  into  a 
total  eclipse  of  all  intellection,  when  it  rises  to  this  elevation,  seems 
rather  to  be  dazzled  by  a too  great  effulgence  ; yet  still  the  light  is 
real  light,  although  to  any  but  the  strongest  vision,  the  effect  may 
be  to  blind  rather  than  to  illumine.  It  is  not  by  negations  that 
men  are  governed  ; but  it  is  before  the  idea  of  eternity  and  infinity 
that  our  fiercest  humanity  is  softened  and  subdued.  Until  we  are 
driven  from  this  position  by  an  irresistible  evidence,  we  must  still 
regard  the  notion  of  the  infinite,  the  absolute,  the  eternal,  as  form- 
ing one  of  our  fundamental  notions  ; and  one  which  opens  to  us 
the  highest  field,  both  for  our  present  meditation  and  our  future 
prospects. 

Before  we  conclude  this  sketch  of  Cousin’s  philosophy,  we  must 
advert  to  his  merits  as  a historian.  In  doing  this,  we  pass  over 
the  labors  he  has  undertaken,  as  a translator  and  an  editor,  al- 
though, perhaps,  he  will  not  owe  the  least  portion  of  his  fame, 
eventually,  to  the  admirable  manner  in  which  he  has  introduced 
the  modern  thinker  into  the  profundities  of  Plato,  and  many  other 
regions  of  philosophy,  hitherto  but  imperfectly  explored.  A better 
foundation  for  modern  eclecticism  could  not  be  laid,  than  that 
which  such  an  exposition  of  the  thoughts  of  great  minds  affordsv 
In  addition  to  this,  however,  the  most  attractive,  perhaps,  of  our 
author’s  own  writings,  are  his  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Phi- 
losophy. Many  of  the  sentiments,  it  is  true,  are  drawn  from  Ger- 
man sources  ; but  still,  they  are  so  thoroughly  individualized,  and 
portrayed  with  so  much  force  and  perspicuity,  that  we  hardly 
know  which  most  to  admire,  the  profound  thinking  by  which  they 
were  first  conceived,  or  the  clearness  and  beauty  by  which  they 
are  here  embellished.  To  comprehend  the  history  of  philosophy 
aright.  Cousin  affirms  that  we  must  have  a distinct  knowledge  of 
the  constituent  elements  of  the  human  reason.  Now,  observation 
shows  us,  that  these  elements  are  three : the  infinite,  the  finite,  and 
the  relation  subsisting  between  them.  These  three  notions,  ac- 
cordingly, must  have  been  the  foundations  of  philosophy  in  every 
age  ; and  in  whatever  manner  they  naturally  develop  themselves 
in  the  mind  of  humanity,  such  must  have  been  the  course  of  phi- 
losophy, historically  speaking,  from  the  earliest  period.* 

In  the  individual  reason,  the  first  idea  that  occupies  the  mind,  is 
* Vol.  i.  p.  56. 

42 


658 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


that  of  the  infinite ; gradually  this  is  lost  sight  of,  to  make  way  fdi- 
the  knowledge  of  finite  objects ; and,  lastly,  the  two  are  united, 
and  viewed  in  their  mutual  dependency  upon  each  other.  Just 
such  has  been  the  development  of  reason,  in  the  whole  course  of 
humanity.  The  early  oriental  philosophy  was  grounded  upon  the 
idea  of  the  infinite  and  absolute  substance  ; the  Greek  philosophy, 
culminating  in  Aristotle,  was  the  philosophy  of  the  finite  ; and, 
lastly,  the  modern  philosophy  has  developed  the  relation  of  the 
finite  to  the  infinite,  and  is  thus  destined  to  complete  the  whole 
cycle  of  human  thought.  These  three  eras,  in  fact,  have  been 
severally  characterized  by  the  existence  of  certain  grand  ideas, 
which,  though  seen  in  their  pure  and  abstract  form  in  philosophy, 
yet  have  virtually  pervaded  the  whole  religious  and  political  exist- 
ence of  mankind.  Thus,  in  religion,  the  first  era  gave  rise  to  Pan- 
theism, the  second,  to  Polytheism,  the  third,  to  Theism ; whilst,  in 
politics,  the  first  was  the  age  of  monarchy,  the  second,  of  democ- 
racy, the  last,  of  mixed  government.*' 

It  is  not  to  be  imagined,  however,  that  these  three  eras  of  the 
world  were  each  exclusively  occupied  with  the  fundamental  con- 
ception in  its  various  developments,  upon  which  its  grand  pecu- 
liarities were  founded.  All  the  elements  of  reason  must  have 
really  existed  in  every  period  ; and  although  each  has  had  its  time 
of  predominant  influence,  yet  every  age  of  mankind  has  exhibited, 
in  a subordinate  degree,  different  systems  of  philosophy  ; accord- 
ing as  different  minds  have  been  led,  more  or  less,  to  the  contem- 
plation of  God,  of  nature,  or  of  humanity.  Hence,  we  find,  as  we 
gaze  down  the  streanrt  of  history,  the  constant  reproduction  of  the 
four  philosophical  tendencies,  which  we  have  indicated  by  the 
terms  sensationalism,  idealism,  scepticism,  and  mysticism  ; and 
upon  these  four  points,  accordingly,  the  whole  history  of  philos- 
ophy must  turn.  Each  of  the  four  systems  is  based  upon  a true 
idea,  and  has  its  own  peculiar  mission  to  perform  in  the  develop- 
ment of  human  reason ; but  each  is  involved  in  error,  arising  from 
its  partial  and  exclusive  view  of  the  elements  of  which  that  reason 
consists.  Their  error,  therefore,  is  the  error  of  deficiency ; they 
are  each  true  in  what  they  teach,  and  each  false  in  what  they  re- 
ject. In  order  to  obtain  the  whole  truth,  they  must  be  all  united  ; 
the  doctrines  which  are  mutually  contradictory  will  then  be  ex- 
ploded, and  those  which  are  able  to  stand  side  by  side,  will  be  re- 
tained.f 

* Vol,  i.  p.  125,  el  seq. 


t Vol.  i.  p.  144,  et  seq.. 


ECLECTrCISM  IN  FRANCE. 


659 


This,  then,  is  precisely  the  aim  of  modern  eclecticism  ; it  is  the 
summing  up  of  the  positive  and  negative  results  of  all  other  sys- 
tems, and  the  complete  separation  of  that  which  is  valid  truth,  in 
them  all,  from  that  admixture  of  error  in  which  it  was  oefore  in- 
volved. Such  is  the  purpose  (one  truly  worthy  of  a great  mind) 
with  which  Cousin  has  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  history  ; 
and  although  we  might  be  more  gratified  had  he  WTitten  systematic 
works  upon  philosophy,  yet  there  can  be  little  doubt,  but  that  in 
following  his  present  course,  he  is  laying  a far  more  solid  foun- 
dation for  the  future  stability  and  glory  of  the  school  which  he  has 
founded.  In  fine,  as  a popular  expositor  of  philosophy,  we  doubt 
whether  Cousin  has  anything  approaching  a rival  in  the  present 
age.  There  may  be,  in  Germany,  more  profound  thinking,  and 
more  power  in  the  purely  abstract  faculties,  but  we  know  of  no 
philosopher  of  modern  times,  w'ho  unites  to  great  originality  of 
thought,  so  extraordinary  a power  of  conveying  his  ideas  in  the 
most  clear  and  eloquent  language.  The  German  thinkers,  from 
their  want  of  perspicuity,  write  almost  exclusively  for  Germans  ; 
and,  even  of  them,  only  for  a small  portion  ; but  the  philosophy  of 
Cousin,  although  comprehending  some  of  the  most  recondite  points 
of  the  German  metaphysics,  yet  has  already  found  its  way  through- 
out Europe  and  America. 

That  this  should  be  the  case,  we  cannot  but  sincerely  rejoice. 
Although,  it  is  true,  we  could  not  subscribe  to  the  system  as  a 
whole,  yet  we  know  of  none  which,  diving  deep  into  the  interior 
of  the  human  consciousness,  comes  forth  at  length  with  so  little 
admixture  of  mere  hypothesis,  and  so  large  a development  of  trutln 
Much  as  some  might  be  startled  at  the  idealism  manifested  in  his 
analysis  of  sensation,  we  doubt  whether  any  other  ontological 
theory  of  the  natural  world  has  been  propounded,  so  little  involved 
in  contradiction,  and  so  thoroughly  capable  of  explaining  all  the 
facts  of  the  case.  Metaphysics  and  natural  philosophy,  it  appears 
to  us,  are  both  tending  to  a dynamical  system  of  the  universe,  sim- 
ilar to  that,  of  which  the  mighty  mind  of  Leibnitz  caught  the  dis- 
tant glimpse. 

In  the  analysis  of  reason,  again,  we  can  almost  entirely  coincide. 
The  development  of  its  constituent  elements — ^the  exposition  of  its 
spontaneous  and  reflective  movements — the  vindication  of  its  au- 
thority— all  present  to  us  philosophical  doctrines  of  the  greatest 
value ; all  resting,  moreover,  upon  the  foundation  of  psychological 
facts,  as  evidence  of  their  truth.  We  do  not  deny  that  thesd  doo- 


660 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


trines  may  yet  require  to  be  modified  and  perfected ; but  still  there 
are  pregnant  germs  of  truth  in  them,  as  they  now  stand  upon  the 
pages  before  us.  To  the  analysis  of  the  will,  there  may  be  some 
objection,  owing  to  its  complete  isolation  from  the  reason ; but  even 
here,  too,  there  are  the  elements  of  much  truth,  which  only  need  a 
little  more  development,  to  place  the  philosophy  of  our  voluntary 
activity  upon  a firm  and  intelligible  basis. 

There  is  one  part,  however,  of  the  system  now  before  us,  which 
we  must  distinctly  except  from  the  eulogy  we  have  pronounced 
upon  the  rest,  and  that  is  the  part  in  which  our  author  carries  the 
results  of  his  philosophy  into  the  region  of  theological  truth.  There 
are  two  points  in  particular,  which  touch  very  closely  upon  the  or- 
dinary sentiments  of  the  Christian  world,  and  which  open  the  door 
for  an  almost  boundless  advocacy  of  religious  scepticism.  These 
are,  first,  the  notion  he  has  given  of  Deity  itself ; and,  secondly, 
that  which  he  has  given  of  inspiration. 

With  regard  to  his  notion  of  Deity,  we  have  already  shown  how 
closely  this  verges  upon  the  principle  of  Pantheism.  Even  if  we 
admit  that  it  is  not  a doctrine,  like  that  of  Spinoza,  which  identifies 
God  with  the  abstract  idea  of  substance ; or  even  like  that  of  Hegel, 
which  regards  Deity  as  synonymous  with  the  absolute  law  and  pro- 
cess of  the  universe  ; if  we  admit,  in  fact,  that  the  Deity  of  Cousin 
possesses  a conscious  personality,  yet  still  it  is  one  which  contains 
in  itself  the  infinite  personality  and  consciousness  of  every  subor- 
dinate mind.  God  is  the  ocean — we  are  but  the  waves  ; the  ocean 
may  be  one  individuality,  and  each  wave  another ; but  still  they 
are  essentially  one  and  the  same.  We  see  not  how  Cousin’s  The- 
ism can  possibly  be  consistent  with  any  idea  of  moral  evil ; neither 
do  we  see  how,  starting  from  such  a dogma,  he  can  ever  vindicate 
and  uphold  his  own  theory  of  human  liberty.  On  such  Theistic 
principles,  all  sin  must  be  simply  defect,  and  all  defect  must  be  ab- 
solutely fatuitous.* 

But  the  most  dangerous  door  into  religious  scepticism,  is  the  use 
which  Cousin  makes  of  the  spontaneity  of  the  human  reason,  in 
order  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  inspiration.  Reflection  alone 
is  considered  to  be  the  source  of  error ; while  that  pure  appercep- 
tion, that  instinctive  development  of  thought,  which  results  from 
spontaneity,  is  absolutely  infallible.  Now  this  spontaneity,  it  is 
said,  is  the  foundation  of  religion.  Those  who  were  termed  seers, 

♦ This  part  of  Cousin’s  philosophy  has  excited  a very  lively  opposition  from  various 
quarters.  In  France  it  has  been  contested  by  Bautain,  in  his  “ Psychologie  Experi- 
mentale”.  Disc.  Prelina. ; and  by  M.  Maret,  in  his  “ Essai  sur  le  Panthcisme,”  chap.  i. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


661 


prophets,  inspired  teachers,  of  ancient  times,  were  simply  men  who 
resigned  themselves  largely  to  their  intellectual  instincts,  and  thus 
gazed  upon  truth  in  its  pure  and  perfect  form.  They  did  not  rea- 
son, they  did  not  search,  they  did  not  reflect  deeply  and  patiently, 
they  made  no  pretension  to  philosophy ; but  they  received  truth 
spontaneously,  as  it  flowed  in  upon  them  from  heaven.  Now,  in  one 
sense,  all  this  may  be  true ; but,  according  to  Cousin,  this  imme- 
diate reception  of  Divine  light  was  nothing  more  than  the  natural 
play  of  the  spontaneous  reason ; nothing  more  than  what  has  ex- 
isted, to  a greater  or  less  degree,  in  every  man  of  gi'eat  genius ; 
nothing  more  than  what  may  now  exist  in  any  mind  which  resigns 
itself  to  its  own  unreflective  apperceptions.  This  being  the  case, 
revelation,  in  the  ordinary  sense,  loses  all  its  peculiar  value  ; every 
man  may  be  a prophet ; every  mind  has  within  it  the  same  authority 
to  decide  upon  truth,  as  those  minds  had  who  dictated  the  Bible  ; 
we  have  only  to  sit  and  listen  to  the  still  small  voice  within,  to  en- 
joy a daily  revelation,  which  bears  upon  it  all  the  marks  of  absolute 
infallibility. 

This  doctrine,  of  course,  may  seem  very  plausible  and  very  flat- 
tering ; nay,  it  may  arraign  some  evidence,  and  boast  the  explana- 
tion of  many  facts ; but,  assuredly,  it  can  only  be  erected  and 
established  upon  the  ruins  of  all  the  fundamental  evidences  of 
Christianity.  When  the  advocates  of  this  natural  spontaneous  in 
spiration  will  come  forth  from  their  recesses  of  thought,  and  deliver 
prophecies  as  clear  as  those  of  the  Hebrew  seer — when  they  shall 
mould  the  elements  of  nature  to  their  will — when  they  shall  speak 
with  the  sublime  authority  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and  with  the  same 
infinite  ease  rising  beyond  all  the  influence  of  time,  place,  and  cir- 
cumstances, explain  the  past,  and  unfold  the  future — when  they  die 
for  the  truth  they  utter,  and  rise  again,  as  witnesses  to  its  divinity 
— then  we  may  begin  to  place  them  on  the  elevation  which  they 
so  thoughtlessly  claim  ; but,  until  they  either  prove  these  facts  to 
be  delusions,  or  give  their  parallel  in  themselves,  the  world  may 
well  laugh  at  their  ambition,  and  trample  their  spurious  inspiration 
beneath  its  feet. 

Much  as  we  admire  Cousin,  while  he  keeps  within  his  proper 
limits,  and  much  as  we  are  disposed  to  maintain  the  truth  of  his 
philosophy,  in  most  of  its  principal  features,  we  cannot  but  repu- 
diate, with  all  our  energy,  his  attempt  to  intrude  upon  the  sacred 
province  of  the  Christian  revelation.  If  he  will  stand  up  as  a the- 
ologian, and  fight  the  battle  upon  its  proper  grounds,  let  him  do  so, 


662 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


and  there  are  plenty  to  take  up  the  gauntlet  which  he  throws  down  ; 
but  it  is  not  the  part,  which  his  own  philosophy  would  dictate,  to 
raise  a new  theory  of  revelation  to  supersede  all  the  rest,  without 
considering  the  facts  and  the  evidences  which  the  Christian  reve- 
lation can  display. 


In  the  foregoing  pages,  we  have  seen  the  process  by  which  the 
principles  of  the  ideological  school  have  been  gradually  over- 
thrown, and  those  of  eclecticism  established.  M.  Laromiguiere 
began  by  secretly  undermining  the  bulwarks  of  sensationalism; 
M.  Royer-Collard  made  the  first  open  breach  in  the  wall ; and  M. 
Cousin  has  spent  his  life  in  rearing  the  edifice  of  a new  philosophy. 
Our  next  duty  is,  to  exhibit  the  effects  which  this  philosophy  has 
produced  in  France,  and  to  describe  the  school,  to  which  it  has 
given  rise.  To  do  this,  will  be  a work  of  but  little  difficulty. 
The  school  itself  is  so  recent,  that,  as  yet,  it  has  had  no  time  to 
assume  many  variations ; and,  although  it  numbers  several  thinkers 
of  great  independence  among  its  advocates,  yet  their  opinions  do 
not  depart  so  widely  from  those  of  the  founder,  as  to  require  any 
lengthened  explanation. 

By  far  the  most  celebrated  of  Cousin’s  pupils  and  supporters  was 
M.  Theodore  Jouffroy.  This  popular  and  eloquent  writer  was 
born  in  the  year  1796,  and  having  studied  philosophy  in  the  faculty 
of  literature,  under  the  direction  of  Cousin,  was  appointed  soon 
after  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the  same  institution, — a 
post  which  he  retained  until  his  death.  M.  Jouffroy  first  became 
known  to  the  public  at  large  through  the  medium  of  a translation 
of  Dugald  Stewart’s  “Moral  Philosophy.”  To  this  translation  he 
prefixed  an  essay  or  preface,  in  which  he  vindicates  the  study  of 
intellectual  science  against  the  attacks  of  those  who  would  banish 
all,  except  natural  philosophy,  out  of  the  domain  of  human  inves- 
tigation. The  preface,  as  a whole,  shows  that  the  author  has 
deeply  imbibed  the  principles  and  the  spirit  of  the  Scottish  meta- 
phj'sicians,  whilst,  at  the  same  time,  he  rises  occasionally  to  those 
more  expansive  views  of  philosophical  truth,  which  were  incul- 
cated in  the  lectures  of  his  illustrious  predecessor. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  clearness,  and  even  the  beauty,  with 
which  he  establishes  in  this  little  production  the  fundamental  prin- 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FEANCE. 


663 


ciples  of  intellectual  philosophy.  As  all  science  must  be  built  upon 
facts,  he  first  inquires,  whether  there  be  not  an  order  of  facts 
peculiar  to  themselves,  and  valid  in  their  nature,  upon  which  men- 
tal philosophy,  as  a branch  of  inductive  science,  can  be  erected  ? 
This  leads  to  a very  lucid  exhibition  of  the  contrast  which  exists 
between  the  external  facts  of  sensible  observation,  and  the  internal 
facts  of  consciousness ; in  which  he  shows,  that  no  fact  cognizable 
by  the  senses  could  possibly  be  arrived  at  by  a direct  conscious- 
ness, and  that  no  fact  of  consciousness  could  ever  be  known 
through  the  senses.  He  concludes,  therefore,  that  two  orders  of 
facts  exist,  perfectly  unique  in  their  character  and  perfectly  distinct 
from  each  other.*  This  point  once  established,  he  proceeds  to 
prove,  that  the  facts  of  consciousness  can  be  accurately  observed, 
and  that  their  laws  can  be  determined  with  the  same  precision  as 
the  laws  of  the  material  world.  Next,  with  regard  to  the  commu- 
nication of  the  facts  of  consciousness  to  others,  he  proceeds  to 
show,  that  although  sensible  evidence  cannot  be  given,  as  is  the 
case  in  natural  philosophy,  yet,  that  the  same  end  is  attained  by 
appealing  to  what  passes  within  the  consciousness  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  who,  in  all  important  points,  are  able  to  verify  the  truth 
of  our  descriptions  by  their  own  personal  experience.  That 
nothing  may  be  wanting  to  establish  his  point,  he  goes  on  to  prove, 
that  physiologists  themselves,  even  while  they  deny  a separate 
order  of  spiritual  facts,  virtually  proceed  upon  them  in  all  their 
own  investigations  ; — natural  science  being  as  much  grounded  upon 
abstract  and  philosophical  principles,  as  any  other.  In  this  manner 
he  successfully  deduces  the  conclusions,  that  there  are  valid  facts 
on  which  to  build  a science  of  psychology ; that  these  facts  can  be 
accurately  determined ; — that  they  can  be  communicated  by  one 
mind  to  another ; and,  that  every  branch  of  human  research  vir- 
tually admits  them. 

The  great  requirement  for  the  advancement  of  psychological 
science  is,  that  theories  should  be  renounced,  that  hasty  inductions 
should  be  given  up,  and  that  we  should  apply  ourselves  to  the  col- 
ligation of  all  the  facts  of  consciousness,  and  to  their  proper  clas- 
sification, with  the  same  diligence  that  has  been  expended  upon 
natural  philosophy.  Many  problems,  respecting  the  nature  of  the 
human  mind,  are,  at  present,  confessedly  enveloped  in  darkness 

♦ M.  Jouffroy  has  overlooked  the  point  in  which  the  morale  and  the  phyaique  virtu- 
ally unite,  that  of  muscular  motion.  This  exception  must  always  be  taken  against  the 
absolute  distinction  here  made,  between  the  facts  of  observation  and  those  cf  con- 
sciousness. 


664 


MODERN  I’HILOSOPHY. 


and  obscurity.  “Whence,  then,”  says  our  author,  “is  the  light  to 
come  ? Where  are  we  to  seek  for  it  ? In  a more  profound  obser- 
vation,” he  replies,  “ of  the  phenomena  of  human  nature,  and  espe- 
cially in  the  study,  which  has  been  greatly  neglected  and  which 
is  yet  in  the  background,  of  the  facts  of  consciousness.”  Such, 
in  brief,  is  the  clear  and  common-sense  view  which  our  author  has 
taken  of  the  proper  method  of  philosophical  research.* 

The  next  source  to  which  we  must  go,  in  order  to  estimate  the 
philosophical  character  of  M.  Joulfroy,  is  a collection  of  articles 
upon  a variety  of  topics,  entitled  “Melanges  Philosophiques.” 
These  were  originally  contributions  to  a philosophical  journal, 
termed  “ The  Globe,”  but  have  since  been  published  by  the  author 
in  a distinct  form.  In  these  articles,  we  see  the  zealous  pupil  and 
successor  of  Cousin,  the  genuine  modern  eclectic,  touching,  more 
or  less,  upon  all  points  within  the  range  of  intellectual  philosophy, 
and  pouring  light  derived  from  all  directions  upon  them.  We  feel 
ourselves  in  company  with  a master  mind,  one  who  does  not  ser- 
vilely follow  in  the  track  pointed  out  by  others,  but,  yet,  who  knows 
how  to  appreciate  the  labors  of  all  true-hearted  thinkers,  and  to 
make  their  results  tell  upon  the  elucidation  of  his  own  system. 

According  to  the  views  here  advanced,  man  is  to  be  regarded 
and  studied  in  a twofold  point  of  view ; inasmuch  as  he  compre- 
hends in  himself  two  separate  elements — the  thing  on  the  one  hand, 
the  person  on  the  other.  The  former  is  human  nature  as  subjected 
to  its  necessary  laws  and  impulses ; the  other  is  human  nature  as 
the  possessor  of  that  extraordinary  personal  power,  by  which  our 
natural  capacities  are  directed,  and  our  whole  existence  moulded  to 
the  intelligent  accomplishment  of  its  destiny.  These  two  elements 
constitute  in  us  two  distinct  modes  of  life, — the  impersonal  life  and 
the  personal ; and  it  forms  one  of  the  chief  features  in  the  system 
before  us,  that  every  faculty  we  possess  is  regarded  as  being  devel- 
oped, either,  on  the  one  hand,  according  to  the  necessary  laws  of 
human  nature,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  under  the  superintendence 
and  direction  of  our  personal  power.  With  regard  to  the  faculties 
themselves,  Jouffroy  has  reduced  them  to  the  following  heads : — 
First,  the  personal  faculty,  or  the  supreme  power  of  taking  posses- 
sion of  ourselves  and  of  our  capacities,  and  of  controlling  them ; 
this  faculty  is  known  by  the  name  of  liberty,  or  will,  which,  how- 
ever, designates  it  but  imperfectly.  Secondly,  the  primitive  in- 

* This  preface  is  translated,  and  published  in  Clark’s  “ Student’s  Cabinet  Library,’ 
together  with  many  other  of  Jouffroy’s  Miscellanies. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


665 


clinations  of  our  nature,  or  that  aggregate  of  instincts  or  tenden- 
cies which  impel  us  towards  certain  ends  and  in  certain  directions 
prior  to  all  experience,  and  which  at  once  suggest  to  reason  the  des- 
tiny of  our  being,  and  animate  our  activity  to  pursue  it.  Thirdly, 
the  locomotive  faculty,  or  that  energy  by  which  we  move  the  loco- 
motive nerves,  and  produce  all  the  voluntary  bodily  movements. 
Fourthly,  the  expressive  faculty,  or  the  power  of  representing,  by 
external  signs,  that  which  takes  place  within  us,  and  of  thus  hold- 
ing communication  with  our  fellow  men.  Fifthly,  sensibility,  or 
the  capacity  of  being  agreeably  or  disagreeably  affected  by  all  ex- 
ternal or  internal  causes,  and  of  reacting  in  relation  to  them  by 
movements  of  love  or  hatred,  of  desire  or  aversion,  which  are  the 
principle  of  passion.  Sixthly,  the  intellectual  faculties.  This  term 
comprises  many  distinct  powers,  which  can  be  enumerated  and  de- 
scribed only  in  a treatise  on  intelligence.  This  may  suffice  to  give 
what  is  peculiar  to  Jouffroy’s  system  ; in  most  other  respects  he 
has  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  his  master.* 

M.  Jouffroy,  however,  is,  by  profession,  a moralist,  and,  conse- 
quently, his  chief  duty  is  to  explain  and  illustrate  this  part  of  our 
constitution.  With  many  of  the  lectures  delivered  by  him,  in  this 
capacity,  he  has  favored  us,  and  we  have  learned  to  appreciate  and 
admire  the  profound,  yet  eloquent  criticism  with  vffiich  he  has  ana- 
lyzed all  the  principal  moral  systems  of  our  own  and  of  other  coun- 
tries. Without  dwelling,  however,  upon  his  character  as  a critic, 
w'e  must  glance  for  a moment  at  the  peculiarities  which  exist  in 
his  own  views  of  ethical  philosophy.f 

According  to  Jouffroy,  the  primary  question  in  ethics  is, 
“ Whether  there  be  such  a thing  as  good,  and  such  a thing  as  evil  ?” 
The  whole  life  of  mankind,  he  contends,  furnishes  one  long  and 
continued  affirmative  to  this  question,  inasmuch  as  men  are  con- 
tinually engaged  in  deliberating,  choosing,  and  deciding  between 

them.  Allowing,  then,  that  good  and  evil  exist,  the  next  point  is, 
to  determine  on  what  ground  one  thing  is  to  be  considered  prefera- 
ble to  another.  Here  our  author  goes  into  an  elaborate  discussion 
to  show  that  we  must  regard  everything  as  good  on  the  one  hand, 
or  evil  on  the  other,  in  proportion  as  it  serves  to  aid  or  to  prevent 
the  fulfilment  of  our  destiny.  The  great  problem  of  human  destiny, 

then,  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  morality;  and  it  is  according  to 

» Melanges  Philosophiques,  art.  Des  Facultcs  de  I’Ame  Humaine,”  p.  ^63. 

•f  Jouffroy’s  lectures  on  moral  philosophy  have  been  translated  in  America,  and  pub- 
lished as  part  of  a series  of  -works,  entitled  “ Specimens  of  Foreign  Literature,”  by 
George  Ripley  of  Boston,  United  States, 


G66 


MODERN  PHILOSOPhY. 


the  bearing  which  every  action  has  upon  this  that  we  must  deter- 
mine its  ethical  quality.  To  pronounce  a priori  concerning  ac- 
tions, whether  they  are  good  or  bad,  is  impossible.  This  entirely 
depends,  first,  upon  the  being  to  which  they  apply  ; and  next,  upon 
the  influence  they  may  have  on  the  destiny  for  which  that  being 
was  created.  Good,  in  the  case  of  any  particular  being,  is  simply 
the  fulfilment  of  its  own  specific  destiny ; and  good,  in  itself,  is  the 
accomplishment  of  the  destiny  of  all  beings  ; i.  e.,  the  existence  of 
perfect  order  and  harmony  in  the  universe,  where  everything  pro- 
ceeds uninterruptedly  to  its  end.  In  this  world  we  find  that  there 
are  perpetual  interruptions  in  the  fulfilment  of  our  destiny.  This 
constitutes  moral  evil;  and  it  is  only  when  these  obstacles  shall  be 
all  removed,  when  all  intelligent  beings  gaze  upon  the  great  end  of 
their  creation,  and  proceed  without  lingering  to  the  realization  of 
it,  that  evil  will  be  subdued,  and  the  reign  of  moral  perfection  com- 
mence. For  this  realization,  however,  we  must  look  beyond  the 
present  to  a future,  and  that  a sinless  world. 

For  the  further  development,  however,  of  these  views,  we  must 
refer  the  reader  to  Jouffroy’s  lectures,  or  for  a briefer  sketch  of 
them,  to  an  article  on  “ Good  and  Evil,”  which  will  be  found 
among  his  “ Melanges  Philosophiques.”  As  a metaphysician,  Jouf- 
froy  will,  probably,  ever  rank  considerably  below  Cousin,  both  in 
depth  and  originality ; since,  in  fact^  he  hardly  went  beyond  the 
psychological  stand-point  of  the  Edinburgh  school ; but  as  a mor- 
alist, he  leads  the  way  in  the  eclectic  school,  without  any  appear- 
ance of  a rival.  We  believe,  that  there  is  no  writer  of  the  present 
day  who  has  grappled  with  the  great  problems  of  moral  science,  so 
manfully  and  successfully — and  who  has  succeeded  in  throwing  so 
much  fresh  light  upon  a subject  which  has  commanded  the  ener- 
gies of  the  greatest  minds. 

In  Cousin  and  Jouffroy  we  have  at  once  the  two  first,  and  the 
two  greatest  advocates  of  modern  eclecticism  in  France.*  The 
doctrines,  however,  which  these  have  been  inculcating  in  the  Nor- 
mal School  at  Paris,  during  the  last  twenty  years  and  more,  have 
been  warmly  received  by  many  others  ; and  not  a few  have  gone 
forth  from  their  instructions  to  disseminate  the  same  principles 
throughout  the  country.  M.  Philippe  Damiron  may  be  regarded 

* Jouflroy’s  views  on  eclecticism,  may  be  seen  in  his  Melanges  Phil,  articles,  “ Com- 
ment les  Dogmes  finissent,”  “ De  la  Sorbonne  et  des  Philosophes,”  and  “ Reflexions 
sur  la  Philosophie  de  I’Histoire.”  The  most  elegant  critique  upon  the  genius  and  phi- 
losophy of  Jouffroy  with  which  I am  acquainted,  is  that  of  M.  Sainte-Beuve,  in  his  ad- 
mirable “ Portraits  et  Critiques  Litteraires,”  vol.  i.  of  the  Second  Series. 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


667 


as  the  third  in  order  of  time  and  eminence,  to  whom  eclecticism 
owes  its  present  position  among  the  philosophies  of  Europe- 
Brought  up  under  the  tuition  of  Cousin,  he  soon  proved  himself 
a worthy  pupil  of  such  a master,  and  has  been  since  rewarded  with 
the  Professorship  of  Philosophy,  at  the  Normal  School  of  Paris, 
and  the  College  of  Louis  the  Great.  M.  Damiron  has  published  a 
course  both  of  mental  and  moral  philosophy,  which  holds  a some- 
what distinguished  place  among  the  metaphysical  productions  of  the 
day.*  The  work,  however,  by  which  he  is  best  known,  and  to  which 
I beg  now  to  acknowledge  my  own  obligations,  is  entitled,  “ Essai 
sur  I’Histoire  de  la  Philosophic  en  France  au  Dixneuvieme  Siecle.” 
This  work,  which  has  gone  through  many  editions,  and  found 
its  way  into  many  countries,  is  almost  indispensable  to  the  history 
of  moi  e’'u  philosophy  in  France,  as  it  gives  perhaps  the  only  com- 
plete account  of  the  progress  of  metaphysics  in  that  country,  from 
the  period  of  the  Revolution  down  to  the  period  of  its  publication. f 
The  views  of  M.  Damiron  are  formed  closely  after  the  model  of 
the  school  from  which  he  came  ; and  in  him,  accordingly,  eclecti- 
cism has  found  a warm,  and,  we  may  add,  an  able  advocate.  To 
detail  his  philosophical  opinions  would  only  be  to  tread  over  again 
the  same  ground  which  we  have  already  traversed  ; and  we  shall 
content  ourselves  therefore,  with  giving  to  our  readers  the  spirited 
remarks  upon  eclecticism,  with  which  he  closes  the  volume  above 
mentioned,  and  which  we  regard  as  being,  upon  the  whole,  a fair 
estimate  of  the  real  worth  and  excellence  of  the  system.  “It 
would  not  be  impossible,”  remarks  our  author,  “ in  strictness,  to 
make  a whole  philosophy  without  the  aid  of  eclecticism.  But  such 
a philosophy  would  be  a monstrosity  ; and  for  the  work,  there 
would  be  requisite  a genius  which,  alone  and  by  itself,  without  aid 
or  co-operation,  could  equal  in  the  best  accomplishments  the  com- 
bined genius  of  the  greatest  philosophers  ; those  who,  in  fact,  were 
great  only  through  their  preceptors,  and  through  history.  The 
human  mind,  however,  cannot  count  upon  such  a singular  phe- 
nomenon ; and  eclecticism  is  much  rather  its  proper  production,  be- 
cause, after  all,  it  is,  in  one  view  of  the  case,  only  the  natural  pro- 
cedure of  humanity,  namely,  labor  by  concert  and  association. 
Eclecticism,  in  fact,  is  philosophy  by  association ; the  philosophy 

♦ “ Cours  de  Philosophie,”  4 vols.  8vo. 

f This  “ Essai”  was  published  first  in  1827.  The  last  edition  appeared  in  1835, 
with  copious  additions  on  the  more  recent  authors.  A still  more  elaborate  work  of 
his  pen  has  lately  appeared,  entitled  “ Essai  sur  I’Histoire  de  la  Phil,  en  France,  au 
xvii'  Siecle.”  Two  thick  vols.  8vo,  1846. 


668 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


which,  by  means  of  criticism  and  history,  enriches  itself  with  all 
the  legitimate  acquisitions  that  belong  to  the  past.  And  this  phi- 
losophy is  of  so  much  the  greater  worth,  because  it  is  more  in 
communion  with  anterior  philosophies,  because  it  participates  in  a 
greater  number  of  doctrines,  and  because  it  has  more  out  of  which 
to  choose,  and  knows  better  how  to  exercise  its  choice.  -*  * * * 
I called  eclecticism  philosophy  by  association  : cannot  I call  it  also 
philosophy  without  exclusion — a sort  of  philanthropy  applied  to  the 
true  ideas  of  all  times  and  all  countries  ? The  larger  it  is  in  its 
admissions,  so  long  as  it  be  discreet,  and  the  more  it  embraces,  so 
long  as  it  does  so  wisely,  so  much  the  more  legitimate  and  pure  it 
is — so  much  the  more  accomplished. 

“It  would  be  difficult  to  affirm,  that  eclecticism  will  never 
change,  whether  it  be  in  relation  to  its  criterion  (which  is  less 
probable)  or  to  its  erudition,  which  latter  will  almost  infallibly  hap- 
pen ; for  already,  since  it  has  been  in  the  world,  it  has  undergone 
many  modifications,  both  in  the  rule  and  in  the  manner  of  its 
choice.  At  present  it  is  spiritual;  spiritual  from  proceeding  upon 
the  data  of  psychology.  This  tendency  I believe  to  be  good,  and 
consequently  to  be  durable ; but,  nevertheless,  I believe,  it  may 
take  some  day  another.  In  the  same  manner,  it  now  moves  in  a 
sphere  of  erudition  without  doubt  very  extensive ; but  how  can  we 
say  that  it  will  not  proceed,  and  extend  itself  beyond  it,  since  it 
has  yet  altogether  a new  world,  that  of  the  East,  hitherto  little 
known,  to  pervade  and  to  master?  There  is,  then,  a chance  that 
in  process  of  time  it  may  become  varied  and  modified. 

“ But  what  will  be  the  consequence  ? Clearly,  that  it  will  be 
amended,  fortified,  perfected  ; not  that  it  will  come  to  an  end.  It 
will  not  come  to  an  end,  at  least,  until  it  is  fully  completed  ; and 
then  it  will  be  able  to  be  said,  that  the  humanity  of  the  present  has 
all  the  knowledge  of  the  past ; that  it  has  what  is  better  and  more 
true,  the  sum  of  all  science,  and  that  nothing  therein  is  deficient. 
Until  then,  eclecticism,  whether  we  know  it  or  not,  will  be,  and 
will  continue  to  be,  the  necessary  procedure  of  every  spirit  in 
progress. 

“ As  we  see,  and  as  I have  said,  eclecticism  is  not  for  philoso- 
phy a definitive  state ; it  is  not  an  end,  it  is  a means ; but  this 
means  is  yet  for  a long  futurity,  and  in  our  days,  more  than  ever, 
of  indispensable  application.  Humanity  did  not  commence  and 
will  not  finish  with  eclecticism ; but  it  has  lived,  and  will  live  and 
develop  itself  by  eclecticism,  which  is  to  the  world  of  ideas  that 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


669 


which  association  is  to  the  world  of  persons ; or  which  is  (to  speak 
more  accurately)  but  one  form  of  association  itself.  More  than 
ever  do  I find  this  conviction  strengthened,  the  more  I penetrate, 
though  with  many  difficulties,  yet  with  much  happiness,  onwards 
into  the  history  of  philosophy.”  Such  is  M.  Damiron’s  estimate 
of  the  philosophical  school,  to  which  he  feels  it  his  honor  and  hap- 
piness to  belong.  We  have  been  the  more  anxious  to  present  our 
readers  with  this  extract,  because  it  gives  so  decided  an  answer  to 
the  frequent  cry  which  has  been  raised  against  the  eclectic  system, 
as  though  it  undertook  to  develop  a whole  body  of  philosophical 
truth,  from  the  mere  juxtaposition  of  all  the  conflicting  opinions 
of  the  present  or  of  former  days.  Eclecticism,  in  Cousin’s  sense, 
is  not  a mere  syncretism  ; it  contains  a definite  philosophical 
method,  and  would  develop  truth  even  were  there  no  other  systems 
to  compare  with  it.  But  convinced  that  all  earnest  thinkers  have 
had  some  true  ideas  to  work  upon,  it  sets  itself  manfully  to  deter- 
mine what  they  are  ; and  strives  to  add  the  testimony  of  humanity 
at  large  to  its  own  investigations.  Admitting,  then,  that  the  eclec- 
tic starts  with  a clear  philosophical  method,  we  know  not  how  it  is 
possible  more  firmly  to  strengthen  its  positions  than  to  concentrate 
upon  them  the  universal  truth,  that  flows  through  all  the  philoso- 
phies which  history  or  the  present  age  present. 

Cousin,  Jouffroy,  and  Damiron,  form  the  foremost  rank  among 
the  abettors  of  eclecticism ; but  many  names  might  yet  be  men- 
tioned in  the  list  of  metaphysical  writers,  which  show  that  there  is 
a “ corps  de  reserve,”  to  carry  on  the  work  as  they  may  be  removed 
from  the  scene  of  action.  The  extraordinary  development  of  a 
spiritual  philosophy  under  the  name  of  eclecticism,  within  recent 
times,  presents  to  us  a phenomenon,  which  is  well  worth  our  most 
earnest  attention.  From  the  fall  of  the  French  republic  the  age 
of  grossness  and  materialism  began  to  decline.  A new  tone  of 
thinking  gradually  sprang  up,  which,  while  it  rejected  the  excesses 
of  democracy,  yet  had  tasted  too  much  of  the  principles  of  national 
liberty,  to  admit  for  a moment  the  idea  of  any  return  to  the  old 
regime.  This  party,  which  gathered  together  after  the  restoration, 
under  the  title  of  liberalism,  numbered  many  ardent  and  philosophi- 
cal minds,  who  looked  forward  to  some  bright  futurity,  in  which  a 
deep  philosophy  and  a rational  faith  should  spread  their  benign  in- 
fluence throughout  society  at  large. 

The  eloquent  lectures  of  Cousin  matured  these  views,  and  stim- 
ulated these  hopes ; and  when  the  hand  of  tyranny  silenced  both 


670 


MODERN  PHILOSOrHY. 


his  own  voice  and  that  of  his  no  less  eloquent  pupil,  and  drove 
them  from  the  halls  of  public  instruction,  their  deep  murmurs  only 
found  a readier  ear  among  the  more  enlightened  of  the  age,  as  they 
rolled  upwards  upon  society  from  the  retirement  to  which  persecu- 
tion had  banished  them. 

“ The  Globe,”  which  was  commenced  in  Sept.  1824,  became  the 
rallying  point  around  which  those  master  spirits  of  the  age  were 
gathered  together.  Its  first  editors  were  MM.  Dubois  and  Leroux; 
but  M.  Jouffroy  may  be  regarded  as  the  presiding  genius  of  its  ear- 
lier efforts.  While  these  philosophic  minds  found  here  an  organ  for 
their  murmurs  and  their  hopes,  there  were  others  of  no  inconsider- 
able influence  who  indirectly  gave  it  their  support.  M.  Cousin  saw 
in  it  the  fruits  of  his  own  otherwise  ill-rewarded  labors.  M.  Gui- 
zot could  not  but  favor  a journal  in  which  his  own  enlightened 
views  upon  European  civilization  were  maintained  and  expounded; 
M.  de  Broglie,  and  others  of  like  spirit,  secretly  rejoiced  in  the 
broad  and  liberal  principles  which  were  there  brought  before  the 
public.  At  the  same  time,  some  of  the  higher  order  of  minds,  who 
had  gained  new  views  of  society  in  the  school  of  St.  Simon,  took 
part  in  the  movement ; so  that,  in  fact,  the  way  was  prepared  for 
the  brief,  but  brilliant,  revolution  of  1830,  which  repelled  the  base 
attempts  of  a restored  monarchy  to  lay  its  hand  upon  the  liberties 
of  the  nation. 

This  point  once  achieved,  and  a period  of  repose  having  suc- 
ceeded, the  genius  of  philosophy  began  to  rouse  up  its  energies  to 
fresh  action.  From  the  accession  of  Louis  Philippe  to  the  present 
hour,  the  French  press  has  been  sending  forth  a metaphysical  litera- 
ture, which  in  learning  and  eloquence  will  bear  a comparison  with 
any  former  period  of  philosophical  activity.  The  fruits  of  it,  as 
seen  in  the  theological  and  mystical  schools,  we  have  already  no- 
ticed ; it  remains  for  us  only  to  notice  it  more  especially  in  connec- 
tion with  the  spirit  of  modern  eclecticism. 

The  labors  of  eclecticism,  during  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years, 
may  be  distributed  into  three  classes, — viz.  translations  or  editions, 
histories,  and  original  philosophical  works.  In  rendering  an  ac- 
count of  these  labors,  we  cannot  attempt  to  give  anything  like  a 
complete  list  of  all  the  works  of  a school  which  has  been  so  unusu- 
ally productive ; we  shall  merely  point  out,  therefore,  some  of  the 
principal  movements  of  its  more  recent  activity. 

1.  With  regard  to  the  labors  of  the  editor  and  translator,  it  will 
be  recollected  that  Cousin  himself,  the  head  of  the  school,  has  nobly 


ECLECTICISM  IN  FRANCE. 


671 


led  the  way  in  his  translation  of  Plato,  and  his  beautiful  editions 
both  of  Proclus  and  Descartes  ; M.  Jouffroy  and  others  have  trans- 
lated the  works  of  Reid  and  Stewart ; and  M.  Peisse,  in  addition 
to  “ Stewart’s  Elements,”  has  given  to  the  French  public  the  col- 
lected fragments  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton.  The  Charpentier  editions 
of  the  earlier  movements  of  modern  philosophy  have  all  appeared 
under  the  direction  of  the  eclectic  school.  M.  Saisset,  professor 
at  the  normal  school,  has  furnished  us  wdth  an  admiral  translation 
of  Spinoza.  M.  Jules  Simon,  also  of  the  normal  school,  has  per- 
formed the  same  office  for  Descartes,  so  far  at  least  as  his  philo- 
sophical writings  are  concerned ; and  M.  Jacques,  professor  at  the 
Royal  College  of  Versailles,  has  edited  Leibnitz’s  and  Clarke’s 
philosophical  widtings  in  the  same  form. 

With  regard  to  the  German  philosophy,  it  may  be  said  now  to 
exist  almost  complete  in  the  French  language.  Through  the  in- 
dustry of  M.  J.  Tissot,  professor  at  Dijon,  and  M.  Jules  Barni, 
professor  at  the  college  of  Charlemagne,  together  with  MM.  Mellin 
and  Trullard,  the  great  works  of  the  immortal  Kant  are  now  be- 
fore the  French  public  in  their  most  intelligible  form.  M.  Paul 
Grimblot  has  completed  the  translation  of  the  two  main  produc- 
tions of  Fichte  and  Schelling,  the  “ Wissenschaftslehre”  of  the  one, 
and  “ Transcendentaler  Idealismus”  of  the  other.  Several  of  their 
other  works  have  also  appeared  in  able  translations  by  M.  Fran- 
cisque  Bouillier,  of  Lyons,  by  M.  C.  Husson,  by  M.  Nicolas,  pro- 
fessor at  Montauban,  (author  of  a defence  of  Eclecticism  against 
the  attacks  of  Pierre  Leroux,)  and  by  several  other  laborers  in  the 
same  cause.  Of  the  works  of  Hegel,  the  lectures  on  ^Esthetics 
have  already  appeared,  under  the  care  of  M.  Benard  of  Rouen ; 
while  some  of  his  other  writings,  as  well  as  the  letters  of  Jacobi 
upon  Spinoza,  are  we  believe  now  in  progress.  When  we  add  that 
Vico’s  “ Scienza  Nuova,”  and  the  philosophical  letters  of  Galluppi, 
have  appeared  in  recent  translations,  and  that  the  grand  produc- 
tions, in  fact,  of  every  nation,  are  appropriated  sooner  or  later  to 
the  aid  of  eclecticism,  we  may  reasonably  look  forward  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  possessing,  ere  long,  the  philosophical  thinking  of  the 
world,  in  the  most  lucid  and  precise  of  all  the  languages  of  man- 
kind. 

2.  The  history  of  philosophy  is  a subject  to  which  eclecticism 
naturally  directs  its  best  energies.  Nurtured  as  it  is  in  extensive 
erudition,  it  ever  seeks  to  develop  the  progress  of  human  knowl- 
edge, and  get  as  near  as  possible  to  the  catholic  thinking  of  man- 


672 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


kind.  M.  Cousin  has  here  also  led  the  way  at  once  by  his  lec- 
tures, and  by  the  second  series  of  his  philosophical  fragments. 
Since  his  example  has  been  before  the  world,  many  are  the  works 
illustrative  both  of  ancient  and  modern  philosophy,  which  have 
emanated  from  the  French  press.  The  logic  of  Aristotie  is  now 
translated,  and  has  been  copiously  illustrated  in  a memoire  pre- 
sented to  the  “ Academic  des  Sciences”  by  M.  Barthelemy  St. 
Hilaire.  The  schools  of  Megara,  of  Elis,  and  of  Eretria,  have 
found  an  historian  in  M.  Mallet,  professor  at  the  College  of  St. 
Louis ; and  the  philosophical  school  at  Alexandria,  with  its  won- 
drous mixture  of  western  thought  and  oriental  mysticism,  has  ex- 
cited especial  attention  amongst  the  eclectic  historians.  M.  B.  St. 
Hilaire,  and  M.  Simon,  have  each  brought  their  varied  and  exten- 
sive erudition  to  bear  upon  the  illustration  of  this  remarkable  page 
in  the  history  of  the  human  mind. 

The  history  of  Cartesianism  has  not  unnaturally  claimed  a con- 
siderable share  of  attention  from  those  who  wish  to  vindicate  for 
France  the  honor  of  an  original  and  native  philosophy.*  The  last 
work  of  M.  Damiron,  entitled  “ Essai  sur  ITIistoire  de  la  Philoso- 
phic en  France,  au  17™'  siecle,”  gives  a very  full  and  clear  descrip- 
tion both  of  Descartes  himself,  and  of  the  school  which  he  orig- 
inated ; and  the  memoire  of  M.  Demoulin,  entitled  “ Cartesianism,” 
which  gained  the  prize  at  the  French  Institute,  may  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  most  complete  expositions  of  the  Cartesian  spirit  and 
doctrine  which  have  yet  appeared.  Other  works  on  the  same  sub- 
ject have  been  published,  the  principal  of  which  have  been  already 
noticed  in  our  former  remarks  upon  the  Cartesian  school  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

The  philosophy  of  Germany,  being  in  fact  the  great  repository 
of  spiritualism  in  human  thought,  has  confessedly  exerted  a vast 
and  almost  unappreciable  influence  upon  the  modern  schools  of 
France.  Cousin  himself  confesses  that  it  was  under  this  influence 
that  his  own  powers  were  at  once  awakened,  and  directed  to  the 
higher  problems  of  fundamental  truth.  About  ten  years  since, 
M.  Barchou  de  Penhoen,  an  intelligent  French  writer  of  Portuguese 
extraction,  published  an  “Histoire  de  la  Philosophic  Allemande 
depuis  Leibnitz  jusqu’a  Hegel,”  in  two  vols.,  8vo.  This  was  the 
first  attempt  that  was  made  to  give  a systematic  and  connected 
view  of  the  German  idealism  in  the  French  language.  M.  Ch. 

♦ The  still  earlier  philosophy  of  Prance,  that  of  the  scholastic  age.  is  ponrayed  in 
M.  Remusat’s  recent  work  on  Abelard. 


ECLECTICISM  IH  FRA?ICE. 


673 


Renouvier,  in  his  “ Manuel  de  Philosophie  Moderne,”  has  recently 
undertaken  the  same  task  in  a more  brief,  but  equally  intelligible 
form,  and,  in  truth,  evinces  himself  a decided  leaning  to  the  Hege- 
lian method.  In  1846,  M.  Abel  Remusat  published  his  report  on 
the  memoires  presented  to  the  Academic  des  Sciences,  respecting 
the  present  state  of  intellectual  philosophy  in  Germany  ; which  he 
has  introduced  by  a preface  filled  with  the  most  masterly  illustra- 
tions and  criticisms  upon  the  principal  systems  of  that  country 
The  prize  memoire  by  M.  Willm  is  now  in  process  of  publication, 
(the  first  of  four  volumes  having  just  appeared,)  and  promises, 
when  completed,  to  be  by  far  the  most  full  and  detailed  exposition 
of  the  German  philosophy,  from  Kant  to  Hegel,  which  has  yet 
been  sent  forth  from  any  other  than  the  German  press.* 

3.  With  regard  to  original  works  on  philosophy,  the  eclectic 
school  has  already  furnished  a considerable  number,  although  it 
has  not  yet  been  long  enough  in  existence  to  produce  any  gi'eat 
variety  of  opinion  and  research.  Several  of  the  professors  in  the 
different  universities  of  France  have  published  a “ Cours  de  Phil- 
osophie,” (as,  for  example,  M.  Mazure  of  Poictiers) ; but  these  are 
most  frequently  adapted  rather  to  instruct  the  student  in  the  ele- 
ments of  intellectual  science,  than  to  develop  any  new  or  advanced 
views  with  I’egard  to  the  great  problems  of  philosophy.  Some  of 
the  most  important  points,  how'ever,  of  the  philosophy  of  Cousin, 
have  been  elaborated  in  separate  works,  among  which  we  may 
mention,  especially,  those  of  M.  Gruyer,  entitled  “ Des  Causes 
conditionelles  et  productrices  des  Idees,”  and  “ Principes  de  Phil- 
osophie Physique,”  intended  to  give  the  basis  of  the  metaphysics 
of  nature.  Of  othei's,  M.  F.  Bouillier  has  discussed  the  doctrine 
of  the  impersonal  reason  ; M.  Ed.  Mercier,  the  relations  between 
faith  and  science ; while  M.  Ernest  Bersot  of  Versailles,  in  a work 
entitled  “ Du  Spiritualisme  et  de  la  Nature,”  has  ventured  upon 
those  most  difficult  of  all  questions,  which  refer  to  the  relations 
subsisting  between  creation  and  the  Creator,  both  in  their  specula- 
tive and  practical  import. 

There  is  one  work,  however,  to  which  we  are  desirous  of  making 
especial  reference,  inasmuch  as  it  sounds  the  first  note  of  division 
within  the  camp  of  the  eclectic  philosophy,  and  that  is  an  “ Essai 

* We  might  have  mentioned  here  the  Life  of  Kant  by  M.  Ainand  Saintes,  and  a 
History  of  the  German  Rationalism,  by  the  same  author ; but  it  does  not  appear  to 
pertain  to  the  eclectic  school.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Dr.  Ott,  the  author  of  the 
work  before  referred  to  on  the  philosophy  of  Hegel.  This  acute  writer  belongs  to  the 
historical  school  of  M.  Buchez. 


43 


674 


MODr.i’.?J  rniLosoriiY. 


cTune  Nouvelle  Theorie  sur  les  Idees  fondamentales,”  by  F.  Perron. 
The  author  having  given  an  historical  sketch  of  the  rise  and  prog- 
ress of  the  modern  spiritual  philosophy  in  France,  enters  into  a 
searching  critique  of  the  principal  doctrines  of  eclecticism,  as  pro- 
fessed by  the  school  of  Cousin.  In  this  critique,  he  attempts  to 
show  that  the  relations  which  have  been  established  between  our 
fundamental  ideas,  with  regard  to  their  logical  and  chronological 
conditions,  are  perfectly  arbitrary  and  unfounded ; that  the  char- 
acters of  necessity,  of  immutability,  and  of  universality,  by  which 
they  are  said  to  be  distinguished,  cannot  be  claimed  for  them  in 
any  exclusive  and  peculiar  sense ; that  their  origin  is  no  more  a 
■priori,  thaft  the  origin  of  anything  is  which  we  grasp  by  the  under- 
standing ; that  the  attempt  to  account  for  their  objective  validity 
by  the  impersonality  of  reason,  has  signally  failed  ; and,  finally, 
that  the  nature  of  the  categories  has  been  altogether  misunder- 
stood. 

Having  concluded  his  critique,  the  author  attempts  to  prove, 
that  there  is  one,  and  only  one  cognitive  faculty  in  man  ; that  this 
cognitive  faculty  is  adapted  to  grasp  objective  truth  directly  and 
immediately  ; that  the  properties  of  things  which  we  perceive,  are 
but  the  modes  of  their  existence ; that  all  our  knowledge  begins 
with  these  concrete  perceptions ; and  that  the  categories  are  not 
forms  of  thought,  nor  pure  ideas,  nor  principles  of  common  sense, 
nor  anything  else  other  than  the  pure  abstractions,  or  rather  the 
highest  generalizations  which  we  form  from  individual  existences. 
Having  argued  this  theory  respecting  the  notions  of  time  and 
space,  substance  and  phenomenon,  cause  and  effect,  the  finite  and 
the  infinite,  the  good,  the  beautiful,  and  the  true,  the  author  ends 
by  giving  a complete  list  of  nine  categories.  We  may  ask  respect- 
ing things  around  us — 


1.  If  they  are? 

Category  of  Existence. 

2.  What  they  are  ? 

a 

Essence. 

3.  How  they  are  1 

n 

Mode. 

4.  By  what  ? 

n 

Causality. 

5.  Why? 

End. 

6.  Where? 

Space. 

7.  When  ? 

a 

Time. 

8.  How  many  ? 

Number. 

9.  In  what  relations  ? 

Relation. 

These  ideas,  he  shows,  give  us 

a complete 

view  of  all  the  differ- 

ent  relations  in  which  things  can 

be  viewed ; that  they  are  neither 

COLLATERAL  BRANCHED. 


675 


inadequate  nor  redundant ; and  that  they  express  precisely  the 
highest  generalizations  to  which  the  human  mind  can  arrive,  with 
regard  to  every  inquiry  it  institutes  on  the  proper  determination  of 
existences  at  large. 

The  author  has  argued  his  points  with  considerable  ingenuity, 
but,  as  it  appears  to  our  own  mind,  is  far  from  sustaining  them 
against  the  school  he  opposes.  We  are  not  sorry,  however,  to  see 
these  questions  brought  down  upon  the  arena  of  contest ; so  long 
as  they  are  regarded  as  fixed  and  unquestionable  data,  the  progress 
of  philosophy  is  only  likely  to  be  impeded  ; the  opening  of  a new 
campaign,  gives  additional  hope  with  regard  to  the  progressive 
results  of  philosophy  for  the  future. 

The  mature  age  of  a philosophy  generally  gives  rise  to  an  En 
cyclopaedia,  which  regards  all  philosophical  questions  from  its  own 
peculiar  point  of  view.  The  highest  results  of  the  eclectic  school 
are  now  being  embodied  in  the  “ Dictionnaire  des  Sciences  Philo- 
sophiques,” — perhaps  the  most  complete  attempt  which  has  yet 
been  made  at  a universal  biography  and  critique  of  all  philoso- 
phers and  their  systems.  Above  thirty  of  the  first  names  which 
France  can  boast  at  the  head  of  her  metaphysical  literature,  appear 
as  contributors  to  this  noble  undertaking — an  undertaking  which 
not  only  supplies  a desideratum  in  their  own  literature,  but  which 
must  prove  of  essential  service  to  the  progi’ess  of  philosophy  itself, 
as  being  the  most  careful  historical  analysis  which  has  yet  appeared 
of  the  catholic  thinking  of  mankind.* 


Sect.  II. — Collateral  Branches  of  the  Eclectic  Philosophy . 

In  the  former  section  we  have  attempted  to  trace  the  process  by 
which  the  materialism  that  overran  France  at  the  commencement 
of  the  present  century,  was  gradually  undermined  and  supplanted 
by  a more  earnest  and  spiritual  philosophy.  Were  we,  however, 
here  to  close  our  sketch  of  the  French  eclecticism,  although  we 
may  have  tracked  its  actual  progress  up  to  the  present  time,  yet  we 
should  be  far  from  doing  justice  to  many  profound  thinkers  and 
excellent  writers,  who  have  aided  in  combating  the  doctrines  of 
materialism,  and  clearing  the  way  for  these  new  and  nobler  prin- 
ciples. There  are  some  authors  in  all  countries,  who,  without  ad- 

* For  an  exposition  of  the  philosopliical  principles  which  have  guided  the  criticisms 
of  this  work,  see  Appendi-x,  note  G. 


r>7S 


MODERN  PHILOaOPUY. 


dressing  themselves  immediately  to  the  solution  of  metaphysical 
or  ethical  problems,  yet,  by  the  whole  cast  and  spirit  of  their  writ- 
ings, exert  a great  influence  upon  the  philosophy  of  their  age. 
There  are  others,  moreov'er,  metaphysicians  by  profession,  whose 
erratic  genius  defies  all  classification,  and  disowns  the  limits  of  all 
schools,  but  who  nevertheless  obtain  their  share  of  influence  in  the 
world  of  thought.  To  pass  these  by,  in  giving  a faithful  history 
of  philosophy,  would  be  an  inexcusable  omission ; and  we  shall 
attempt,  therefore,  to  compress  into  a small  compass  a succinct 
account  of  the  collateral  streams  which  have  aided  in  swelling  the 
now  deepening  channel  of  the  spiritual  eclecticism  of  France. 

I.  And  first,  let  us  notice  one  or  two  writers  who,  in  the  earlier 
portion  of  the  century,  lent  their  aid  to  the  first  attacks  which 
were  made  upon  the  reigning  ideology.  Foremost  amongst  these 
we  should  reckon  Benjamin  Constant,  a mind  imbued  with  many 
of  the  best  qualities,  both  of  the  French  and  the  German  char- 
acter, and  free  from  most  of  the  vices  peculiar  to  each.  The  in- 
fluence he  possessed  before  and  during  his  banishment  by  Napo- 
leon, was  rather  of  a personal  character  than  exerted  through  the 
press ; but  on  his  return  he  became  widely  celebrated  for  his  polit- 
ical writings,  and  finally  for  his  remarkable  theologico-philosophical 
work,  entitled,  “ De  la  Religion  consideree  dans  sa  Source,  ses 
Formes,  et  ses  Developpements.”  In  this,  his  last  legacy  to  the 
world,  he  gave  the  most  decisive  proofs  of  his  anti-sensational  ten- 
dency ; and,  with  a brilliancy  of  wit  and  eloquence  for  which  he 
was  almost  unrivalled,  defended  his  more  spiritual  views  against 
the  attacks  of  materialism. 

His  great  principle  is,  that  the  religious  feeling  in  man  is  purely 
instinctive,  that  it  arises  neither  from  sensation,  nor  from  a sense 
of  fear,  nor  from  physical  organization  ; but  from  the  mysterious 
and  Divine  constitution  of  the  human  soul.  As  Constant  has 
written  so  little  of  a purely  metaphysical  nature,  we  cannot  as- 
sign him  a very  prominent  place  in  the  history  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy ; by  his  whole  style  of  thinking,  however,  by  his  religious 
views,  by  his  earnest  feelings,  as  well  as  by  his  direct  arguments, 
he  contributed  his  share  in  dethroning  materialism  from  its  long- 
continued  sway,  and  in  abetting  the  first  efforts  of  the  eclectic 
.school.  In  connection  with  Benjamin  Constant  we  must  also  men- 
tion Madame  de  Stael.  It  was  in  company  with  Constant,  to- 
gether with  Villers,  the  first  French  expositor  of  Kantism,  and 
Schlegel  the  elder,  that  that  extraordinary  woman  learned  to  ap- 


COLLATERAL  BRANCHES. 


677 


preciate  the  profound  and  spiritual  philosophy  of  Germany.  A 
more  admirable  medium  could  hardly  be  imagined  for  adapting 
the  lofty  thoughts  of  Germany  to  the  French  mind,  than  was  af- 
forded by  her  warm  and  enthusiastic  style.  Had  the  intense  re- 
searches of  Fichte  or  Schelling  been  sent  forth,  just  in  the  form  in 
which  they  flowed  from  the  pens  of  the  authors,  to  the  French 
public  in  its  own  tongue,  they  would,  in  all  probability,  have  been 
thrown  aside  in  disgust,  and  left  hardly  an  impression  behind  them. 
No  sooner,  however,  were  these  thoughts  divested  of  all  technical- 
ity, no  sooner  were  they  stripped  of  their  abstract  form,  and  held 
up  to  view  by  the  light  of  her  ardent  enthusiasm,  than  they  pen- 
etrated into  every  mind,  and,  with  the  admiration  which  they  at 
first  excited,  left  behind  a longing  for  better  things.  France 
learned  first,  from  the  pages  of  this  its  fair  preceptress,  that  the  phi- 
losophy of  Germany  was  not  a tissue  of  unintelligible  mysticism  ; 
it  learned,  that  behind  a forbidding  exterior  there  were  deep  and 
burning  thoughts,  which  only  needed  a fitting  channel,  to  shed 
their  influence  upon  evei’y  branch  of  human  knowledge.  Al- 
though no  system  of  philosophy  was  inculcated  by  her — none  even 
explained,  with  any  approach  to  logical  accuracy — yet  it  was  im- 
possible not  to  feel,  in  the  perusal  of  her  writings,  that  there  ex- 
isted a philosophy,  far  nobler  than  the  dreams  of  materialism ; that 
there  were  sentiments  and  impulses  in  the  human  soul,  which 
could  never  be  brought  down  to  the  vibrations  of  a nerve,  or  the 
commotions  of  the  brain.  Mad.  de  Stael,  though  not  herself  a 
philosopher,  did  perhaps  more  for  philosophy  in  France,  than  any 
W'riter  of  the  same  age.  She  seized  upon  the  few  prominent  ideas 
which  she  had  learned  to  love  and  to  cherish,  in  her  literary  re- 
treat at  Coppet,  and  sent  them  forth,  clothed  with  all  the  brightness 
of  her  own  enthusiastic  spirit,  to  awake  a response  in  the  depths 
of  every  earnest  and  thoughtful  mind.  In  doing  this,  she  well 
performed  her  mission,  and  exerted  an  influence,  to  which  the 
country,  from  which  she  lived  an  exile,  owes  a lasting  debt  of 
gratitude. 

Another  writer,  of  a class  entirely  different  from  those  we  have 
just  mentioned,  but  who  has  also  had  an  indirect  influence  upon 
the  renovation  of  the  French  philosophy,  is  M.  Degerando.* 

♦ M.  Degerando  was  born  at  Lyons,  A.D.  1772.  When  his  native  town  was  be- 
sieged by  the  republican  army  in  1 793,  he  took  arms  in  its  defence,  and  with  difficulty 
escaped  into  Italy,  where  he  remained  for  three  years.  After  his  return  to  Prance 
he  joined  the  Army  of  Italy ; but  owing  to  his  rising  literary  reputation,  was  soon  ap- 
pointed to  civil  service.  Diuing  the  regime  of  Napoleon  he  was  advanced  from  one 


678 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


This  somewhat  celebrated  author  first  appeai’ed  before  the  public 
in  the  year  1800,  by  the  publication  of  a work,  proposing  to  ex- 
emplify the  relation  between  the  signs  of  our  thoughts  and  the  art 
of  thinking.'*  At  that  time  M.  Degerando,  in  common  with  all 
the  other  philosophers  of  the  country,  was  a disciple  of  Condillac ; 
but,  although  professedly  belonging  to  the  ideologists,  yet  he  was 
far  from  adopting  the  extreme  opinions,  for  which  many  of  them 
became  remarkable,  manifesting  even  then  a decided  repugnance 
towards  the  materialistic  tendency  of  the  age.  In  1802  M.  De- 
gerando gave  in  a memoire  to  the  Academy  of  Berlin,  “ De  la 
Generation  des  Connaissances  Humaines,”  which  was  honored 
with  the  highest  prize  of  distinction.  The  memoire  consisted, 
first  of  a historical  view  of  the  different  theories  which  have  ob- 
tained in  different  periods  of  the  world,  on  the  origin  of  our  ideas ; 
and,  secondly,  of  an  analysis  of  the  true  elements  of  human  knowl- 
edge. This  treatise,  which  was  published  at  Berlin,  in  1802, 
formed  the  basis  of  a much  more  complete  and  valuable  work, 
entitled  “ Histoire  Comparee  des  Systemes  de  Philosophie  relative- 
ment  aux  Principes  des  Connaissances  Humaines,”  and  which  ap- 
peared in  Paris  in  1804.  This  work,  although  estimating  all  sys- 
tems of  philosophy  from  the  ideological  point  of  view,  yet  seemed 
to  spread  abroad  a more  popular  knowledge,  than  had  hitherto  ex- 
isted, of  the  world’s  great  thinkers,  and  of  the  views  and  opinions 
which  they  had  entertained.  The  author  showed  himself  clearly 
to  possess  a liberal  and  enlightened  mind — to  be  a sincere  seeker 
after  truth,  and  not  to  be  fettered  closely  by  the  trammels  of  any 
system.  Accordingly,  as  the  spirit  of  the  age  began  to  change — as 
the  reaction  against  the  sensationalism  of  the  Encyclopaedic  period 
began  to  show  itself,  M.  Degerando  was  one  of  the  first  to  move 
forward  in  the  stream,  and  to  welcome  every  fresh  sign  of  real 
improvement.  In  1822,  he  commenced  a second  edition  of  his 
History  of  Philosophy,  revised,  enlarged,  and  remodelled  to  the 
altered  character  of  the  age.  Here  we  find  an  increased  attention 
given  to  all  those  systems  which  partake  of  an  idealistic  character, 
and  a general  tone  of  thinking,  far  more  profound  and  spiritual 
than  that  which  was  observable  in  the  former  edition. 

In  this  latter  form,  the  “ Histoire  Comparee”  has  proved  a valu- 

post  of  dignity  to  another,  and  after  the  Restoration  was  appointed  professor  ala  Fac- 
ulte  de  Droit.  In  1837  he  was  raised  to  the  peerage,  and  in  1843  he  died. 

» This  was  a memoire  which  he  wrote  for  the  “ Class  des  Sciences  Morales  et  Poli- 
tiques,"  and  which  received  the  prize,  an  hnnor  of  which  lie  received  the  intelligence 
as  he  was  reposing  from  the  toils  and  dangers  of  the  battle  of  Zurich.  It  consists  of 
4 vols.  8vo. 


COLLATERAL  BRANCHES. 


679 


able  auxiliary  to  eclecticism.  In  presenting  a faithful  picture  of 
the  principal  schools  of  philosophy  which  have  severally  played 
their  part  in  the  world,  it  has  broken  down  a blind  attachment  to 
any  one  peculiar  system,  and  demonstrated  the  fact,  that  truth 
exists,  more  or  less,  amongst  them  all.  In  a word,  M.  Degerando, 
by  introducing  his  readers  so  fully  into  the  interior  of  the  great 
philosophies  of  ancient  and  more  modern  times,  has  induced  many 
a one  to  become  an  eclectic,  even  in  spite  of  himself ; so  that  we 
must  regard  his  elaborate  volumes  as  no  inconsiderable  link  in  the 
chain  of  causes,  by  which  the  elevation  of  the  eclectic  philosophy 
to  so  high  a position  as  it  now  assumes  has  been  effected. 

II.  We  must  notice  the  contributions  which  have  been  brought, 
by  physiological  researches,  to  the  progress  of  eclecticism  in 
France.  Physiology,  during  the  earlier  years  of  this  century,  was 
considered  to  be  all  on  the  side  of  materialism.  The  views  of 
Cabanis  (which  we  have  explained  in  a former  chapter)  reigned, 
for  a time,  almost  supreme  among  metaphysicians,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  members  of  the  medical  faculty,  on  the  other.  In 
proportion,  how'ever,  as  the  spirit  of  philosophy  gradually  altered, 
and  the  reaction  began  to  manifest  itself  against  sensationalism,  in 
the  same  proportion  we  find  a corresponding  influence  exerted  upon 
the  speculations  of  the  physiologist,  forcing  upon  his  attention  facts 
which,  hitherto,  had  been  either  mis-explained,  or  altogether  ex- 
plained away. 

In  the  year  1823,  M.  Berard,  of  Montpellier,  published  his  “ Doc- 
trine des  Rapports  du  Physique  et  du  Moral,”  in  which  he  re- 
pelled the  materialism  of  those  who  had  preceded  him  in  his  inves- 
tigation, and  showed,  upon  purely  scientific  principles,  that  we 
must  admit  something  beyond  the  brain  and  the  nerves,  to  account 
for  the  simplest  facts  of  human  nature.  The  position  in  which  he 
intrenches  himself  is  this ; that  matter,  being  dead,  motionless, 
inert,  could  never  give  rise  to  any  changes  whatever,  wei'e  there 
not  something  besides  matter  to  produce  them.  We  may  say,  pop- 
ularly, that  certain  particles  of  matter,  when  brought  into  contact, 
give  I’ise  to  motion ; but,  evidently,  it  is  not  the  mere  proximity  oi 
them,  which  could  produce  such  an  effect.  Proximit}’’  is,  in  fact, 
only  the  condition  upon  which  a certain  force  is  put  into  action  ; 
and  this  force  is  the  real  cause  of  the  whole  phenomenon.  Wher- 
ever there  is  change  or  motion,  therefore,  we  must  necessarily 
admit  the  existence  of  power,  and  power  cannot  possibly  be  con- 


cso 


JJODERN  rniLOSOPIlY. 


ceived  of  under  the  idea  of  atoms,  molecules,  or  of  any  material 
type  or  emblem. 

With  regard  to  the  real  nature  of  power,  this,  of  course,  must 
vary  with  the  effects  produced.  When  food  is  assimilated  in  the 
human  stomach,  here  we  have  in  operation  a digestive  power,  of. 
a chemical  nature  : when  life  is  produced  and  maintained,  we  see 
the  exertion  of  a certain  vital  power  ; so,  also,  when  we  observe 
intelligence  manifesting  itself,  we  conclude  the  existence  of  an  in- 
tellectual power  or  principle,  which  we  term  mind.  In  short,  all 
causes,  according  to  M.  Berard,  are  immaterial,  or  spiritual ; and 
mind  is  the  name  we  give  to . that  peculiar  power  or  cause,  by 
which  intelligence  and  emotion  are  called  forth.  To  sum  up  his 
doctrine  in  his  own  words — “ The  mind  is  one — indivisible,  imma- 
terial, though  united  to  the  body  ; it  cannot  lend  itself  to  this  union, 
except  as  mind,  and  not  according  to  the  law  which  unites  body  to 
body.  It  cannot  be  placed  by  the  side,  or  in  the  midst  of  the  or- 
gans ; but  it  is  present  in  them — it  perceives  in  them — it  gives 
activity  to  them,  and  receives  it  from  them.  It  is  bound  in  its 
exercise,  by  certain  physiological  and  vital  conditions,  without 
which  it  would  not  be  able  to  display  its  faculties ; but  it  does  not 
owe  these  faculties  to  them  ; it  is  a force,  in  harmony  and  co-oper- 
ation with  other  forces,  which  all  have,  in  organization,  their  func- 
tions and  their  attributes.”* 

Another  author,  who  has  conducted  the  physiological  argument 
against  materialism  with  great  ability,  is  M.  Virey,  whose  volume 
on  the  “Vital  Power”  appeared  in  the  year  1823.  According  to 
the  theory  there  maintained,  there  is  a life-power  sent  forth  from 
God,  the  great  first  cause,  which  is  the  basis  of  all  the  changes  that 
take  place  in  the  material  universe,  and  all  the  phenomena  of  ani- 
mated existence.  This  power  we  see  first  giving  its  crystalline 
form  to  the  mineral ; then  entering  into  all  the  varied  genera  and 
species  of  the  vegetable  world  ; and  lastly,  achieving  its  greatest 
wonders  in  animal  life,  and  in  man  as  its  highest  form.  This  same 
vital  power  it  is,  which,  pervading  the  whole  of  nature,  binds  all 
existence  together  in  the  most  perfect  harmony.  Nothing  stands 
isolated  and  alone ; and  even  man  himself,  though  raised  above  the 
rest  of  creation  around,  yet  is  a link  in  the  chain  of  universal  being, 
having  relation  both  to  the  life  below  and  the  life  beyond  him. 
Far  as  we  should  be  from  giving  in  our  entire  adherence  to  a sys- 

* On  the  doctrines  of  M.  Berard,  see  Damiron’s  “ Essai  sur  I’Histoire  de  Phil.”  vol. 
ii.  p.  12,  et  seq.;  also  a brief  notice  in  the  “ Dictionnaire  des  Sciences  Pliil.” 


CCLLATEllAL  BKANCI1E3. 


681 


tern  of  natuEe  founded  upon  the  principle  just  stated,  yet  we  must 
regard  the  work  of  M.  Virey  as  having  been  in  its  time  highly  val- 
uable. The  arguments,  the  assumptions,  and  the  miserable  shifts 
of  materialism,  were  there  shown  forth  in  the  most  plain  and  pal- 
pable manner ; the  ingenious  devices  by  which  Cabanis  attempted 
to  overcome  the  difficulties  of  his  adopted  theory,  were  displayed 
and  refuted  ; and  the  necessity  was  strongly  demonstrated  of  ad- 
mitting some  power  or  other  beyond  the  mere  concurrence  of 
atoms,  in  order  to  explain  the  facts  both  of  life  and  of  intelligence. 
In  a word,  M.  Virey  had  succeeded  in  strongly  impressing  upon 
his  own  mind  the  notion  of  power  as  the  basis  of  all  spiritualism  ; 
and  he  felt  (as  every  mind  must  feel  in  which  this  notion  has  been 
fully  developed)  that  it  is  far  less  possible  to  banish  the  existence 
of  some  all-pervading  and  ever  energetic  power  of  the  universe, 
than  it  is  to  banish  the  notion  of  matter  itself.  Putting  the  three 
possible  hypotheses  of  the  universe  side  by  side — that  which  re- 
gards it  as  entirely  composed  of  material  atoms,  that  which  regards 
it  as  consisting  altogether  of  forces,  and  that  which  regards  it  as  a 
combination  of  the  two,  we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  the 
first  is  that  which  we  can  give  up  with  the  least  violation  of  all  the 
fundamental  principles  of  human  knowledge. 

In  a country  like  France,  where  materialism  had  intrenched  it- 
self within  the  conclusions  of  physiology,  it  was  assuredly  no  small 
aid  to  the  'progress  of  eclecticism  to  find  writers  like  those  above 
mentioned  (and  other  names,  perhaps,  equally  eminent  might  be 
added)  who  were  ready  to  meet  the  materialist  on  his  own  ground, 
and  to  dislodge  him  from  his  strongest  positions. 

III.  While  France,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  was  devoted 
to  the  sensational  hypothesis,  the  neighboring  soil  of  Germany  was 
cherishing  a most  profound  idealism.  We  may  next  mention, 
therefore,  one  or  two  French  authors,  who,  from  residence  in  Ger- 
many, imbibed  the  foreign  philosophy,  and  who  sought  to  extend 
the  knowledge  of  it  to  their  own  country.  The  name  of  Villers  is 
well  known  in  this  country,  as  the  French  expositor  of  Kant’s 
“ Critick  of  Pure  Reason.”  Passing  by  those,  however,  who  have 
merely  distinguished  themselves  by  expounding  the  views  of  others, 
we  may  mention  one  or  two  writers  who  have  followed  a more  in- 
dependent course  in  advocating  their  philosophical  opinions. 

First,  we  shall  refer  to  the  Baron  Massias,  some  time  Consul- 
General  at  Hamburg,  and  afterwards  Charge  d’ Affaires  at  Berlin. 
In  this  author  we  recognize  a mind  which,  during  a long  course  of 


682 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


years,  has  devoted  itself  with  persevering  and  untiring  energy  to 
the  study  of  philosophy.  As  a writer,  he  may  not  appear  so  at- 
tractive as  many  others,  his  style  aiming  rather  at  expressing  his 
own  thoughts,  and  embodying  his  own  individuality,  than  adapting 
itself  to  the  public  mind  ; but  it  is  impossible  not  to  remark  in  it  a 
great  integrity  of  purpose,  and  an  unbiassed  love  of  truth.  His 
chief  work  is  an  elaborate  production  of  five  volumes,  entitled 
“ Rapports  de  I’Homme  a la  Nature,  et  de  la  Nature  a.  THomme,” 
in  which  he  discusses  a vast  number  of  questions,  touching  upon 
almost  all  branches  of  philosophy. 

The  Baron  explains  the  whole  phenomena  of  humanity  under 
the  three  facts  of  instinct,  intelligence  and  life.  Instinct  is  the 
foundation  of  our  very  existence — that  which  guides  and  preserves 
our  life  in  all  its  primitive  and  most  essential  functions.  Intelli- 
gence is  that  which  peculiarly  distinguishes  man  as  a moral  agent ; 
and,  lastly,  life,  as  developed  in  humanity,  is  that  which  results  from 
the  harmonious  combination  both  of  instinct  and  of  intelligence. 
Without  instinct,  man  would  not  live  at  all ; without  intelligence, 
he  would  not  live  morally  ; under  the  influence  of  both  together,  he 
lives  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  great  end  of  his  being.  In  a 
similar  strain  our  author  discourses  on  the  world,  and  on  God,  its 
fu'st  cause.  “ He  regards  the  whole  creation,”  says  M.  Damiron, 
“ as  a great  drama.  The  mysterious  and  divine  poet  who  has  con- 
ceived it,  and  put  it  into  play,  shows  himself  to  no  one : he  is  not 
hei’e  rather  than  there  ; he  was  not  yesterday  more  than  to-day  ; 
but  everywhere  and  always  he  makes  himself  felt.  He  does  not 
unveil,  and  yet  he  proves  himself;  and,  without  developing  himself 
intimately,  he  makes  himself  known  by  signs  and  reveals  himself  in 
symbols.  This,  he  considers,  if  not  enough  for  our  curiosity,  ought 
to  be  enough  for  our  reason.” 

In  1830,  M.  Massias  published  another  work,  entitled  “Traite 
de  Philosophie  Psycho-Physiologique,”  in  which  he  has  developed 
the  same  views  as  those  which  are  scattered  throughout  his  larger 
work,  with  a more  particular  reference  to  the  physiology  of  the 
mind.  In  addition  to  this,  he  has  published  two  controversial 
pamphlets  in  opposition  to  M.  Broussais,  in  which  he  defends  his 
opinions  with  much  warmth  and  vigor  against  the  materialism 
maintained  by  that  author.  In  fine,  though  we  cannot  term  M. 
Massias  a professed  adherent  of  eclecticism,  yet  in  many  points  he 
coincides  fully  with  their  opinions,  and  has  ever  been  a zealous  co- 


COLLATERAL  BRANCHES. 


683 


operator  with  them  in  subverting  the  principles  of  the  sensational 
school. 

Another  French  author  who  comes  still  nearer  to  the  spirit  of 
eclecticism,  is  M.  Ancillon,  formerly  French  Protestant  preacher 
at  Berlin,  afterwards  professor  of  philosophy  at  the  Military  Acad- 
emy there,  and  finally  minister  of  foreign  affairs  to  the  King  of 
Prussia.  M.  Ancillon  commenced  his  authorship,  in  the  depart- 
ment of  literature  and  philosophy,  so  far  back  as  the  year  1801  ;* 
and  appeared  before  the  public  from  time  to  time  almost  to  the  pe- 
riod of  his  death,  which  took  place  in  1837.  His  three  principal 
publications  consist  of  essays  and  miscellanies,  comprising  many 
subjects  connected  with  metaphysics,  politics,  and  general  litera- 
ture. The  last  work  he  wrote  was  an  essay  upon  “Science  and 
Philosophical  Faith,”  in  which  he  takes  a review  of  the  conflicting 
opinions  of  Germany,  and  points  out  in  what  respect  the  principal 
philosophers  of  that  country  have  erred,  from  taking  an  imperfect 
view  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  human  knowledge.  His  own 
opinions  approach  most  nearly  to  those  of  the  school  of  Jacobi, 
owing  to  the  great  stress  he  lays  upon  intuitive  knowledge,  or,  as 
he  terms  it,  philosophical  faith.  He  regards  science,  indeed,  as 
nothing  more  than  faith  developed  by  reflection,  and  includes 
within  the  circle  of  this  instinctive  belief  many  truths  of  a purely 
spiritual  nature.  Though  not  an  eclectic,  in  the  sense  in  which 
that  term  is  applied  to  the  modern  spiritualists  of  France,  yet 
M.  Ancillon  has  displayed  the  spirit  of  eclecticism  even  more  fully, 
perhaps,  than  some  of  its  professed  advocates.  Throughout  the 
whole  of  his  career  he  has  been  a mediator  between  exti'emes, 
whether  in  literature,  politics,  or  philosophy  ; and  one  of  his  works, 
indeed,  (written  originally  in  the  German  language,)  was  published 
with  this  precise  object  in  view.  Although  it  is  the  opinion  of 
many,  that  M.  Ancillon  is  far  from  profound  in  the  strictures  he 
has  made  on  the  German  philosophy,  and  the  expositions  he  has 
offered  of  its  principal  doctrines,  yet  we  should  hardly  suppose  that 
there  can  be  any  other  author  (M.  Cousin  excepted)  to  whom  the 
French  public  owe  so  many  valuable  thoughts  from  the  German 
literature  and  philosophy,  or  any  other  who  has  had  so  direct  an 
influence  in  rendering  the  principles  of  a calm  and  spiritual  phi- 
losophy familiar  to  their  minds. 

* His  “ Melanges  de  Littcrature  et  de  Philosophie”  were  published  at  Berlin  in  1801 ; 
and  a second  edition  in  Paris,  in  1809.  The  “ Essais  Philosophiques,  ou  Nouveaux 
Melanges,’’  appeared  in  1817;  and  the  “ Nouveaux  Essais”  in  182-i.  Some  years 
later  he  published  a work,  entitled  “ Mediateur  des  Extremes  en  Politique  et  en  Litter- 
aturc and  in  1830,  appeared  his  last  labor,  “ Sur  la  Science  et  la  Koi,” 


G84 


MODEKN  PlULOaOPHY. 


IV.  In  rendering  an  account  of  the  various  influences  that  have 
borne  upon  the  modern  philosophy  of  France,  we  must  not  over- 
look those  which  have  emanated  from  Switzerland.  From  its  geo- 
graphical situation,  and,  as  it  regards  most  of  its  inhabitants,  from 
a community  of  language,  Switzerland  has  necessarily  stood  in 
close  relationship  with  Germany.  On  the  other  hand,  that  portion 
of  the  country  which  uses  the  French  language,  and  of  which  we 
may  regard  Geneva  as  virtually  the  centre,  has  been  almost'  as 
closely  united  to  Scotland,  both  by  religious  sympathies  and  his- 
torical recollections.  As  a proof  of  this,  be  it  remembered  that 
the  philosophy  of  Reid  and  Stewart  found  there  its  first  asylum  on 
the  Continent  of  Europe.  Amidst  all  the  predominant  French  in- 
fluence, therefore,  which  Switzerland  experienced  at  the  time  of 
the  Revolution,  there  was  ever  mingled  an  under-current  of  op- 
posing thoughts  and  feelings,  arising  from  the  Scottish  philosophy 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  German  idealism  on  the  other.  Notwith- 
standing the  strong  sensational  tendency  manifested  by  Bonnet 
(one  of  the  first  metaphysicians  of  Switzerland  during  the  last  cen- 
tury), we  find  in  such  writers  as  M.  Prevost,  and  even  in  those  who 
were  pupils  of  Bonnet  himself,  an  extreme  readiness  to  throw  off 
the  fetters  of  the  sensational  system  in  which  they  were  educated, 
and  to  adopt  the  more  profound  and  spiritual  conclusions  of  the 
Scottish  writers.  The  only  author  to  which  we  shall  now  make 
any  distinct  reference  is  M.  Bonstetten,  in  whose  works  the  criti- 
cal reader  will  not  fail  to  trace  the  combined  influence  of  Condil- 
lac, of  Kant,  and  of  Reid.  His  works  consist  of  two  volumes,  en- 
titled “ Recherches  sur  I’lmagination,”  published  in  1807  ; and  two 
others,  entitled  “Etudes  de  ITIomme,” published  in  the  year  1821 ; 
in  both  of  which  there  is  manifested  the  same  earnest  philosophical 
spirit,  which  is  so  well  calculated  at  once  to  please  and  instruct 
the  reader.  The  chief  aim  of  his  writings  is  to  analyze  the  intel- 
lectual and  active  powers,  to  show  the  proper  sphere  in  which  each 
of  them  operates  and  the  ideas  to  which  they  give  rise.  Perhaps 
he  most  nearly  resembles  a pupil  of  the  school  of  Reid  and  Stewart, 
exhibiting  much  of  the  same  shrewd  psychological  observation,  the 
same  moderation  in  his  aims  and  purposes,  and  the  same  good 
sense  generally,  which  have  ever  characterized  the  Scottish  meta- 
physicians. 

The  influence  of  his  works  upon  France  must  have  been  deci- 
dedly in  favor  of  eclecticism.  Firmly  attached  to  spiritualism  on 
the  one  hand,  and  ever  ready  to  borrow  light  from  whatever  source 


CCLLATEKAL  BRANCHES. 


685 


on  the  other,  he  clearly  sympathized  in  the  main  principles  for 
which  the  eclectic  philosophers  of  that  country  have  struggled; 
and  to  him,  accordingly,  they  have  appealed,  as  affording  an  unbi- 
assed testimony  in  favor  of  their  own  opinions.  M.  Bonstetten 
died  in  the  year  1831,  having  completed  eighty-six  years,  during 
the  greater  part  of  which  he  had  lived  faithful  in  his  devotion  to 
the  cause  of  philosophical  truth. 

V.  After  having  noticed  the  above  extraneous  sources,  from 
which  the  eclectic  philosophy  has  received  aid  and  encouragement, 
we  must  now  conclude  by  pointing  out  one  or  two  philosophical 
writers,  purely  and  exclusively  French,  who,  without  strictly  ad- 
hering to  eclecticism,  have  shown  their  sympathy  with  the  anti- 
sensational  movement  of  the  present  day.  Among  these  we  should 
place  M.  Thurot,  who  was  carried  off  in  the  prime  of  life  by  the 
fearful  epidemic  with  which  the  French  capital  was  so  severely 
visited,  in  the  year  1832.  This  learned  and  elegant  author  had 
published,  shortly  before  his  death,  a work,  in  two  volumes,  entitled 
“ De  I’Entendement  et  de  la  Raison.”  By  the  understanding  he 
means  the  intellectual  faculty  generally ; by  the  reason  he  signifies 
merely  the  proper  use  and  employment  of  our  faculties.  The  gen- 
eral character  of  the  work  is  almost  entirely  psychological.  It 
treats,  first,  of  knowledge  as  derived  from  perception ; then,  of 
knowledge  in  relation  to  language  ; thirdly,  of  the  power  of  the 
will ; and,  lastly,  of  the  moral  faculty.  The  author  does  not  enter, 
to  any  extent,  into  the  deeper  questions  of  ontology,  nor  does  he 
discuss  at  any  length  the  spirituality  of  the  mind.  It  is  evident, 
however,  that  his  own  views  are  decidedly  opposed  to  materialism ; 
and  were  we  called  upon  to  class  him  under  any  school,  we  should 
say,  as  we  did  of  M.  Bonstetten,  that  in  his  habits  of  psychological 
observation,  and  the  general  tone  of  his  philosophical  writings,  he 
might  best  pass  as  a follower  of  the  Sc  'ttish  school  of  intellectual 
philosophy.  M.  Thurot  was  a friend  and  disciple  of  M.  Laromi- 
guiere,  and  we  may  reckon  him,  therefore,  as  belonging  to  the 
eclectic  school  in  that  particular  stage  of  its  progress. 

Another  philosophical  writer  of  the  same  class  is  M.  Cardaillac, 
author  of  a woi'k  entitled  “ Etudes  elementaires  de  Philosophie.” 
In  this  work  we  see  simply  a somewhat  further  development  of  the 
philosophy  of  M.  Laromiguiere,  in  which  the  principal  defects  of  that 
author  are  supplied,  and  some  of  his  cruder  views  matured.  Like 
M.  Thurot,  he  is  clearly  opposed  to  sensationalism,  and  may  be  re- 


686 


MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY. 


garded  as  no  mean  coadjutor,  though  not  a decided  adherent  of 
modern  eclecticism. 

Among  the  most  prominent  and  most  voluminous  writers  of 
France,  at  the  present  time,  stands  M.  Lerminier,  professor  of 
philosophy  at  the  College  of  France.  A succession  of  works  upon 
the  philosophy  of  juidsprudence,  and  upon  the  history  of  metaphys- 
ical systems  in  different  countries,  written  with  great  brilliancy  of 
style  and  vigor  of  mind,  have  achieved  for  him  a reputation,  which, 
if  it  may  not  prove  to  be  perennial,  yet  at  least  sheds  some  glory 
around  his  name  as  an  author  and  a philosopher.  M.  Lerminier 
has  united  himself  to  no  school,  and  perhaps  his  opinions  are  not 
very  clearly  defined.  Of  sensational  principles,  however,  he  has 
ever  shown  himself  a stern  opponent;  and  although  he  has  far  more 
sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  eclecticism  as  now  developed  in  France, 
yet  he  has  thrown  out  even  against  it  some  bold  and  vigorous  ob- 
jections. His  aim  appears  to  be  to  hold  up  the  necessity  of  found- 
ing a native  philosophy  in  France  ; which,  though  grounded  upon  the 
nature  and  authority  of  the  human  mind,  shall  contemplate  it  in  its 
historical  development,  as  achieving  for  itself  new  conquests  in  the 
departments  of  art,  of  science,  of  politics,  of  social  institutions, 
and  of  religion.  In  brief,  M.  Lerminier  having  well  mastered  the 
main  principles  of  the  German  philosophy,  and  being  evidently  im- 
pressed with  the  validity  of  many  of  its  researches,  would  unite 
with  its  results  the  idea  of  progress,  as  proclaimed  by  the  historical 
school  of  France,  and  thus  combine  the  deep  metaphysics  of  the 
one  with  the  traditional  and  progressive  light  of  the  other.* 

We  have  thus  briefly  passed  under  review  a number  ol^  meta- 
physical writers,  (to  which  several  more  might  have  been  added,) 
who,  though  not  professing  eelecticism,  yet  have  taken  their  part 
in  the  reformation  of  the  French  philosophy.  Our  chief  object  in 
doing  so  has  been,  not  so  r .uch  to  make  our  readers  acquainted 
with  their  particular  views,  (which  could  not  be  satisfactorily  done 
in  a mere  manual,)  as  to  show  tha  t the  reaction  in  France  against 
the  materialistic  school  of  the  last  centuiy,  has  been  more  general 
and  more  decided  than  is  frequently  imagined.  All  this  multiplicity 
of  antagonism,  which  the  bold  assumption  of  the  sensational  writers 

* The  principal  works  of  M.  Lerminier  are  a “ Philosophie  du  Droit,”  2 vols.  8vo, 
Par.  1831 ; Etudes  d’Histoire  de  Philosophie.”  Par.  1836;  ” Cours  d’Histoire  des  Le- 
gislations comparee,”  Par.  1837 ; together  with  some  minor  works  principally  on  the 
German  philosophy,  of  which  the  most  interesting,  as  far  as  I have  read  them,  is  that 
entitled  “ Au  dela  du  Rhin.” 


COLLATERAL  BRANCHES. 


687 


called  forth,  has,  in  fact,  only  tended  to  encourage  and  develop  the 
spirit  of  eclecticism,  in  its  more  recent  and  energetic  form. 

We  venture  to  predict,  that  there  is  no  school  of  philosophy  that 
has  arisen  since  the  revival  of  literature  in  Europe,  which  is  likely 
to  leave  broader  traces  behind  it,  and  play  a more  important  part 
in  the  development  of  the  human  mind,  than  is  that  to  which  this 
chapter  has  been  devoted.  In  point  of  originality,  it  must  doubt- 
less yield  the  palm  to  the  idealism  of  Germany ; but  as  in  other 
branches  of  learning,  so  also  in  philosophy,  Germany  seems  destined 
to  afford  the  material,  which  the  more  skilful  and  adroit  minds  of 
England  and  France  are  to  employ  for  the  enlightenment  and  ad- 
vancement of  the  great  mass  of  humanity.  Modern  eclecticism, 
though  but  of  a few  years’  growth,  has  already  begun  to  put  forth 
its  vigor  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  In  addition  to  its  having 
succeeded  in  arousing  France  from  the  torpor  of  its  extreme  ma- 
terialism— in  addition  to  its  having  reinfused  into  that  great  people 
a fresh  taste  for  spiritual,  and  even  religious  ideas — it  has  crossed 
the  Atlantic,  and  founded,  in  America,  a colony  which  bids  fair  to 
embrace  and  direct  all  the  metaphysical  tendencies  of  the  New 
World.  England,  moreover,  is  now  beginning  to  appreciate  the 
labors  of  modern  eclecticism  ; and  if  we  are  destined,  ere  Iona:,  to 
awake  from  the  slumber,  with  w'hich,  as  far  as  philosophy  is  con- 
cerned, we  have  now,  for  many  years  past,  been  oppressed,  we 
must  look  to  the  spiritual  movement  of  France  as  the  chief  source 
from  which  our  new  life  is  to  be  derived.  Already  can  we  trace 
its  influence  upon  some  of  the  most  popular  and  most  metaphysical 
of  our  writers ; and  we  trust  that,  ere  long,  we  may  see  the  ele- 
ments of  a new  school  of  philosophy  on  this  side  the  Channel, 
which  may  emulate  France  in  those  points  which  are  most  worthy 
our  imitation. 

In  estimating  the  merits  of  the  eclectic  school,  care  should  be 
taken  not  to  confound  it  with  that  paltry  attempt  at  philosophizing, 
which,  for  want  of  any  decided  views  whatever,  puts  together  a 
misshapen  and  incoherent  mass  of  other  men’s  opinions.  Eclecti- 
cism, as  now  advocated  and  understood,  takes  in  a range  of  inves- 
tigation, wide  as  philosophy  itself.  Philosophy  has  a history  in  the 
world,  as  w'ell  as  humanity ; and  the  true  eclectic  simply  aims  at 
studying  it  in  its  historical  development.  He  regards  the  human 
reason  as  a germ,  which  has  been  ever  unfolding,  and  is  destined 
yet  to  unfold,  so  long  as  the  purposes  of  providence  respecting 
mankind  go  on  to  accomplish  themselves  upon  the  stage  of  human 


688 


MODERN  rillLOSOrilY. 


life.  It  is  true,  tnat  we  find  the  same  great  questions  produced 
and  reproduced,  the  same  systems  sinking  and  rising  again,  the 
same  problems  ever  solving,  and  yet  to  be  solved.  Still,  with  all 
this,  there  has  been  a gradual  progress  in  the  development  of  truth 
in  the  world ; so  that,  instead  of  rejecting  all  the  labors  of  those 
great  minds  which  have  preceded  us  in  the  domains  of  philosophy, 
and  beginning  to  build  a new  edifice  for  each  succeeding  genera- 
tion, it  does  appear  to  us  both  right  and  necessary  to  stand  upon 
the  elevation  already  attained,  and  to  strive  to  add  our  portion, 
small  as  it  may  be,  to  the  erection  of  the  edifice  of  philosophical 
truth.  This  is  the  spirit  of  eclecticism — a philosophy  which,  un- 
der the  influence  of  meagre  erudition,  may,  it  is  true,  easily  dwin- 
dle down  to  absolute  insignificance  ; but  which,  under  the  guidance 
of  sound  learning  and  intellectual  power,  promises  the  richest  har- 
vest to  the  patient  and  vigorous  laborer.* 

• Vid.  Appendix,  Note  H. 


PART  III. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ON  THE  TENDENCIES  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  NINETEENTH 

CENTURY. 

We  have  now  completed  the  primary  object  we  had  in  \ iew  ; 
namely,  to  portray  the  broader  characteristics  which  the  specula- 
tive philosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  already  assumed. 
Before  we  close  the  subject,  however,  and  bring  our  labor  to  its 
termination,  we  have  thought  it  might  add  somewhat  to  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  sketch,  were  we  to  occupy  a few  pages  in  eluci- 
dating the  tendencies  of  the  different  systems  which  have  been 
discussed. 

By  the  tendencies  of  a metaphysical  system,  we  mean  the  whole 
mass  of  ultimate  consequences,  which  can  be  fairly  and  logically 
drawn  from  its  acknowledged  principles.  These  consequences,  it 
must  be  remembered,  are  not  always  seen  in  the  simple  doctrines 
it  maintains,  or  in  the  objects  which  it  professes  to  aim  at ; very 
frequently,  we  find  it  giving  rise  to  sentiments,  which  were  sup- 
posed altogether  foreign  from  its  original  principles,  and  accom- 
plishing ends,  at  first  by  no  means  contemplated.  Philosophical 
ideas  are  mighty  and  pregnant  germs,  which  may  expand  almost 
to  infinity  ; and  often,  it  is  no  more  possible  to  say,  at  once,  what 
lies  potentially  in  a given  principle,  than  it  would  be  to  predict, 
from  the  appearance  of  some  strange  root  or  seed,  of  what  kind  is 
the  plant  which  it  will  eventually  produce. 

In  order,  then,  to  understand  w'hat  the  tendencies  of  any  system 
of  philosophy  really  are,  there  are  two  methods  whieh  may  be  em- 
ployed for  the  purpose ; the  one  is  the  method  of  deduction,  the 
other,  of  observation — the  former  being  an  a priori,  the  latter  an 
a posteriori  process.  In  employing  the  deductive  method,  our  aim 

44 


690 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


is  to  unfold  the  consequences  which  lie  hidden  in  any  given  prin- 
ciples, by  logical  reasoning.  This  is,  in  fact,  what  almost  all  spec- 
ulative philosophy  aims  at.  The  germs  of  all  abstract  truth  exist, 
virtually,  in  every  rational  mind,  only  in  a crude  and  undeveloped 
state ; and  it  is  for  philosophy  to  make  us  reflectively  conscious  of 
what  these  germs  really  contain.  The  whole  history  of  philos- 
ophy, indeed,  is  but  the  history  of  the  successive  attempts  which 
have  been  made  to  decipher  the  characters  engraven  by  Deity 
upon  the  tablet  of  the  human  soul.  To  comprehend,  therefore, 
the  tendencies  of  any  principles  a priori,  we  must  reason  or  phi- 
losophize upon  them,  until  the  thought  they  contain  is  expanded 
and  realized.  In  employing,  on  the  other  hand,  the  a posteriori 
method,  all  we  have  to  do,  is  to  note  down  the  effects,  which  his- 
tory or  personal  observation  show  to  have  actually  arisen  from  the 
principles  in  question.  This  experimental  process  is  often  neces- 
sary, to  confirm  or  verify  the  conclusions  of  our  a priori  reason- 
ing ; and  it  is  when  both  methods  are  employed  in  conjunction, 
that  the  clearest  and  fullest  results  are  obtained. 

But  there  is  another  thought,  on  which  we  must  lay  some  stress, 
in  connection  with  the  tendencies  of  philosophy ; namely,  that  to 
estimate  the  effects  of  abstract  principles  aright,  we  must  not  con- 
fine our  view  simply  to  the  metaphysical  theories  they  involve. 
Metaphysical  ideas  exert  a vast  influence  out  of  the  region  of  philoso- 
phy itself ; and  it  is  in  these,  their  indirect  and  collateral  bearings, 
that  their  true  tendencies  are  most  readily  observed.  The  precise 
object,  then,  which  we  have  before  us  in  the  present  chapter,  is  to 
look  at  the  four  generic  systems,  whose  characteristics  we  have 
already  portrayed,  in  connection  with  some  of  those  other  spheres 
of  human  thought  and  activity,  upon  which  their  influence  is  most 
observable.  This,  it  will  be  seen,  has  an  important  bearing  upon 
the  future.  If,  by  logical  reasoning,  aided  by  past  experience,  we 
are  able  to  unfold  the  natural  efiects  of  these  different  schools  of 
philosophy,  upon  questions  of  great  practical  moment,  in  society  at 
large,  we  have,  in  fact,  the  key  by  which  to  interpret  at  once  their 
present  tendencies,  and  their  future  influence  upon  the  coming  his- 
tory of  mankind. 

The  next  point  to  be  considered  is, — What  spheres  of  human 
thought  and  activity  might  be  best  adduced,  as  exemplifying  the 
tendencies  of  philosophical  systems  ? Here,  of  course,  a wide  field 
of  observation  opens  itself  before  us.  Literature,  art,  government, 
history — almost  every  branch  of  human  research,  might  be  regard- 


THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


691 


ed,  one  after  the  other,  as  modelled  upon  the  type  of  certain  funda- 
mental conceptions,  and  varying,  just  in  proportion  as  those  con- 
ceptions vary.  In  order,  however,  to  bring  our  remarks  within  a 
closer  compass,  we  shall  select  for  illustration  three  of  the  prov- 
inces of  man’s  mental  activity,  in  which  the  working  of  philo- 
sophical ideas  is  more  direct  and  apparent ; and  these  are  the  re- 
spective provinces  of  Science,  Legislation,  and  Religion. 

First,  then,  we  say,  that  the  tendency  of  abstract  philosophy 
may  be  seen,  by  its  effect  upon  the  progress  of  scientific  investiga- 
tion. Nothing  can  be  more  erroneous  than  the  supposition,  that 
the  pursuit  of  physical  science  lies  entirely  without  the  range  of 
abstract  thinking,  or  that  it  consists  wholly  in  the  collection  and 
classification  of  facts.  Facts  alone  can  never  create  science. 
They  may  furnish,  it  is  true,  the  data  on  which  it  rests ; but 
science,  properly  so  called,  only  results,  when  these  facts  are  con- 
sciously grounded  in  some  conception,  and  tend  to  educe  some 
general  principle.  The  'facts  of  mathematical  science,  for  exam- 
ple, rest  ultimately  upon  the  pure  conceptions,  either  of  number  or 
space ; those  of  natural  philosophy,  upon  the  idea  of  causality ; 
those  of  physiology,  upon  the  notion  of  life ; and  so,  in  every 
instance,  there  is  some  thought,  from  which  each  particular  branch 
of  investigation  springs,  as  well  as  some  general  law  or  principle, 
at  which  it  aims.  For  science,  then,  to  advance,  it  is  just  as  neces- 
sary that  these  abstract  conceptions  should  be  made  clear  and  dis- 
tinct, as  that  facts  should  be  collected  ; and  while  the  latter  process 
requires  the  constant  aid  of  observation  and  experiment,  the  former 
can  only  be  finally  accomplished  by  a w'ell  cultivated  and  philo- 
sophical habit  of  thinking.  Science  is  as  much  indebted  to  those 
who  have  expounded  its  nature,  its  conceptions,  and  its  method,  as 
to  those  who  have  collected  its  actual  data.  It  was  Bacon’s  meta- 
physical genius,  for  example,  which  turned  the  stream  of  physical 
investigation  into  the  right  channel ; which  laid  open  the  true 
method,  by  w'hich  it  should  be  conducted;  and  wLich  enabled 
mankind  to  recover,  in  three  centuries,  the  loss  of  labor  they  had 
sustained  during  two  thousand  years  previous.  Generally,  then, 
we  may  say,  that  in  proportion  as  philosophy  has  succeeded  in 
clearing  our  conceptions,  the  facts  of  observation  become  so  much 
the  more  available  for  the  construction  of  science. 

Again, — the  tendency  of  philosophical  systems  is  seen  in  their 
influence  upon  the  principles  of  legislation.  Society  is  humanity 
in.  its  natural  combination  ; and  according  to  our  estimate  of  what 


692 


MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  fundamental  laws,  wants,  and  characteristics  generally  of 
human  nature  are,  will  be  the  principles  of  government,  which  are 
seen  to  be  adapted  to  it.  The  statesman,  who  legislates  for  man 
as  nothing  more  than  a superior  animal,  will  follow  a very  differ- 
ent course  in  the  application  of  his  authority,  from  one  who  feels, 
that  our  humanity  is  Divine,  and  can  only  thrive  under  the  shadow 
of  eternal  justice,  rectitude,  and  truth.  The  sensational  moralist, 
as  a legislator,  will  seek  to  satisfy  our  corporal  desires  and  appetites 
at  whatever  cost ; the  spiritual  moralist,  as  a legislator,  will  seek 
first  to  respect  and  to  nurture  the  freedom,  the  justice,  the  moral 
dignity,  from  which  all  true  rational  greatness  must  spring. 

Thirdly, — it  is  hardly  necessary  to  make  any  preliminary  re- 
marks upon  the  manner  in  which  philosophical  ideas  influence  our 
theological  creed  and  our  religious  practice.  If  it  be  true  that  the 
foundation  of  theology  is  found  in  the  laws  of  our  reason,  and  the 
witness  they  bear  to  the  being  of  a God  ; if  it  be  true,  that  the 
germ  of  the  religious  life  is  cradled  in  the  affections  of  our  nature ; 
if  it  be  true,  that  the  human  intellect  must  decide  upon  the  authen- 
ticity of  a Divine  revelation,  and  interpret  the  documents  by 
which  it  is  conveyed  to  us ; — then  it  becomes  evident,  that  the 
conclusions  of  philosophy  upon  the  validity  of  reason  and  the  na- 
ture of  the  affections,  must  intimately  affect  the  whole  region  of 
theology  itself.  With  these  few  preliminary  observations,  then,  we 
shall  proceed  at  once  to  the  particular  object  of  the  present  chap- 
ter, namely,  to  point  out,  as  far  as  we  may  be  able,  the  respective 
tendencies  of  the  different  systems  of  philosophy  which  prevail  in 
this  our  nineteenth  century. 

Sect.  I. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Sensationalism. 

The  first  or  lowest  step  of  sensationalism  is  that  which  teaches 
us  to  attach  an  undue  importance  to  the  intimations  of  the  senses : 
the  extreme  development  of  it  is,  to  symbolize  everything  with  the 
material ; to  make  the  soul  synonymous  with  the  brain,  and  God 
but  the  abstraction  of  nature.  Between  these  two  points  there  is 
an  infinite  number  of  positions,  which  can  be  held  by  minds  of  a 
sensational  tendency  ; and  an  infinite  number  of  applications  of  the 
views  thus  maintained. 

A.  According,  then,  to  our  proposed  plan,  we  shall  first  notice 
the  tendency  of  sensationalism  within  the  domain  of  physical  sci- 


TENDENCIES  OF  SENSATIONALISM, 


693 


ence.  Now,  physical  science,  being  an  expansion  of  the  funda- 
mental idea  of  nature,  is  one  of  the  most  necessary  products  of  a 
sensational  age.  Physics,  however,  are  not  always  regarded  in 
one  and  the  same  point  of  view,  either  in  respect  to  their  nature 
or  their  objects  : they  have  always  had  their  deeper  and  more  re- 
condite, as  well  as  their  more  superficial  movement.  While,  on  the 
one  hand,  they  may  simply  include  the  most  commonplace  obser- 
vation of  facts,  yet  they  may  reach,  on  the  other  hand,  the  highest 
degree  of  scientific  abstraction.  Starting  with  a simple  classifica- 
tion of  palpable  phenomena,  they  may  acquire  progressively  more 
and  more  generality ; until,  from  being  a science  of  simple  obser- 
vation, they  become  at  length,  to  a great  extent,  one  of  purely  ra- 
tional deduction.  The  known  laws  of  the  heavenly  bodies  were 
first  included  in  the  scanty  observations  of  the  Chaldeean  shepherd ; 
now  they  are  reduced  to  the  abstract  doctrine  of  forces  ; this  doc- 
trine itself,  too,  reposing  upon  the  still  more  abstract  and  recondite 
conceptions  of  power  and  motion. 

Hence,  we  may  observe  the  difference  that  will  manifest  itself 
between  the  science  of  an  objective  and  that  of  a subjective 
age.  The  former  will  strive  to  create  an  empirical  picture  of  the 
universe  ; it  will  add  fact  to  fact,  and  phenomenon  to  phenomenon, 
until  the  whole  machinery  of  nature,  which  is  open  to  the  outward 
observer,  shail  have  been  described.  The  latter,  on  the  contrary, 
will  be  ever  searching  either  into  the /orces  by  which  the  world  is 
governed,  endeavoring  to  generalize  them  to  their  highest  degree, 
and  seeking  to  reduce  them  to  their  most  abstract  form ; or,  into 
the  ends,  towards  which  all  the  phenomena  of  nature  are  ever 
pointing.  The  one  will  investigate  chiefly  the  matter  of  our 
knowledge,  the  other  will  investigate  the  form ; the  one  will  col- 
lect the  facts,  the  other  will  explain  the  conceptions  in  which  those 
facts  are  grounded  ; the  one  will  inquire  little  after  the  First  Cause, 
as  lying  beyond  the  range  of  sensible  observation  ; the  other  will 
attempt  to  conceive  how  all  creation  has  flowed  forth  from  the 
prime  creating  mind  ; the  one  will  look  upon  all  things  simply  as 
facts,  the  other  will  view  them  in  relation  to  their  eternal  pur- 
poses. 

Now,  although  the  rash  spirit  of  the  French  Encyclopsedist  has 
happily  disappeared,  yet  various  indications  still  exist,  in  different 
parts  of  Europe,  of  such  a sensational  tendency  in  the  investiga- 
tions of  physical  science.  Some  of  these  indications  are  observ- 
able in  the  department  of  general  physics,  others  more  especially 


694 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


in  that  of  physiology.  To  distinguish  these  tendencies  of  modern 
sensationalism  from  each  other,  we  may  call  the  former  its  cosmo- 
logical, the  latter  its  physiological  tendencies. 

First,  then,  sensationalism  in  its  cosmological  tendencies  always 
evinces  a disposition  more  or  less  decisive  to  erect  the  idea  of  na- 
ture over  that  of  God  ; that  is,  to  merge  the  notion  of  a final  cause 
in  the  totality  of  secondary  causes  around  us.  So  it  is  in  the  pres- 
ent day.  France,  England,  Germany,  all  three  rivals  to  each 
other  in  the  discoveries  of  science,  have  each  given  recent  mani- 
festations of  the  still  powerful  influence  of  empiricism  within  the 
domain  of  natural  philosophy.  France,  as  might  have  been  sup- 
posed, has  led  the  way.  Not  many  years  have  elapsed  since 
M.  Comte  poured  forth  his  startling  doctrines  upon  the  world,  and 
attempted  to  persuade  mankind  that  this  glorious  universe  which 
we  exhibit,  has  come  into  being  by  the  spontaneous  working  of 
mechanical  laws. 

In  our  own  country,  and  far  more  recently,  the  scientific  world 
has  been  thrown  into  commotion  by  the  anonymous  appearance  of 
the  “Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History  of  Creation.”  In  this  work, 
we  have  a very  plausible,  though  a very  imperfectly  sustained  ef- 
fort of  empiricism,  to  explain  the  process  of  creation.  God  is  here 
placed  at  some  immeasurable  distance  from  the  universe,  while  it 
is  left  to  proceed  onwards  in  its  process  of  self-development,  and 
to  bring  all  its  multifarious  phenomena  into  being,  by  virtue  of 
certain  laws  originally  impressed  upon  it.  The  theory,  stripped  of 
all  its  adornments,  is  this  : — That  it  is  possible,  one  vast  universe 
of  nebula  being  granted,  to  trace  the  whole  method  by  which  it 
has  assumed  its  present  form,  with  all  its  endless  diversities,  th-ougli 
the  medium  of  the  physical  laws  now  seen  to  bs  in  operation.  It  is 
true,  that  the  a posteriori  argument  for  the  being  of  God  is  not 
materially  affected  by  this  system,  supposing  it  to  be  true,  because 
law  must  have  a creator  and  a designer,  as  well  as  the  most  fully 
developed  existences  : but  the  general  impression  of  the  theory  is 
one  which  leads  us  to  exclude  Deity  from  any  immediate  connec- 
tion with,  or  interest  in,  the  universe  he  has  made. 

Such  an  effect,  however,  we  are  far  from  thinking  rationally  de- 
duced, even  on  the  supposition  that  the  physical  processes  and 
laws,  which  the  author  attempts  to  make  out,  were  fairly  estab- 
lished. Laws,  after  all,  are  merely  abstractions  ; the  power  itself 
which  works  in  them  is  still  Divine ; so  that,  should  the  process, 
by  which  everything  comes  into  being,  be  at  length  explained,  the 


TENDENCIES  OF  SENSATIONALISM. 


695 


proper  nfluence,  so  far  from  excluding  Deity,  would  be  only  to 
make  us  more  than  ever  cognizant  of  the  immediate  workings  of 
the  Divine  hand  around  us.  The  whole  theory  has  emanated,  as 
it  appears  to  us,  from  a mind  in  which  the  idea  of  nature  has  ob- 
tained the  great  predominance  over  our  other  fundamental  concep- 
tions, in  which  the  power  of  intelligent  mind  is  sunk  in  the  vague 
notion  of  law ; and  in  which,  as  a natural  consequence.  Provi- 
dence (that  is,  the  presence  of  the  mind  of  God  in  the  world)  is  re- 
duced almost,  if  not  altogether,  to  a nonentity.  Those  who  would 
further  investigate  the  conclusions  of  this  remarkable  work,  con- 
clusions so  plausibly  supported  and  so  eloquently  drawn,  should  not 
forbear  to  read  the  article  in  the  “ Edinburgh  Review,”  in  which 
the  scientific  accuracy  of  the  unknown  author  is  probed  with  the 
hand  of  a master,  and  his  theory  estimated  with  great  acuteness. 

Since  the  publication,  we  may  remark,  of  several  works  of  a 
somewhat  similar  tendency,  (of  which  “ Combe’s  Constitution  of 
Man”  may  be  taken  as  a fair  specimen,)  it  has  become  by  no  means 
uncommon  with  many  besides  the  author  of  the  “Vestiges,”  to  push 
aside  the  doctrine  of  Providence  as  a thing  altogether  exploded. 
Now  we  are  quite  ready  to  admit  that  the  common  idea  of  Provi- 
dence has  had  many  absurdities  clinging  around  it,  and  that  such 
works  as  the  above  have  brought  many  truths  respecting  the  influ- 
ence of  the  natural  laws  to  light,  which  had  been  too  much  over- 
looked. But  here  unfortunately  we  find,  as  in  most  other  instances, 
that  a principle,  when  once  applied  with  success,  is  apt  to  be  gen- 
eralized altogether  beyond  its  legitimate  extent ; and  that  a true 
idea,  once  too  eagerly  grasped,  is  sure  to  be  worked  threadbare 
before  it  is  fairly  dismissed.  The  fact  that  God  operates  by  the 
medium  of  natural  laws,  does  not,  in  the  least,  exclude  the  idea  of 
providential  interposition  or  superintendence.  What  are  the  nat- 
ural laws  after  all  ? They  are  not  real  existences.  They  merely 
express  modes  of  the  Divine  operation,  which  we  are  able  to  trace 
in  the  world  around  us.  That  God  operates  in  these  modes  does 
not  imply  that  he  operates  in  no  other ; nor  does  the  fact  that  an 
event  takes  place  by  some  secondary  agency,  exclude  it  from  a 
specific  participation  in  the  Divine  plan  as  a whole. 

Let  us  assume  a case  for  example.  Suppose  a man,  by  some 
act  of  imprudence,  to  contract  a disease,  and  hasten  on  his  death. 
One  says,  in  contemplating  the  scene,  it  is  a dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence. Not  at  all,  says  another,  it  is  the  natural  effect  of  the  laws 
which  he  foolishly  violated.  We  rejoin,  however,  that  it  is  both. 


69G 


MODEKN  PIIILOSOrUY. 


The  man  broke  the  law,  and  paid  the  penalty ; but  every  thought, 
every  purpose,  every  action,  every  circumstance,  in  a word,  which 
influenced  that  man’s  life,  and  led  him  at  length  into  the  fatal  reso- 
lution under  which  he  fell,  has  depended  upon  a succession  of  agen- 
cies reaching  back  even  to  his  infancy ; and  these  agencies,  be  it 
remembered,  all  belong  to  the  region  of  God’s  moral  government. 
We  do  not  say  that  they  are  fixed  by  a stern  necessity,  since  that 
would  destroy  the  notion  of  human  liberty,  but  they  are  all  under 
the  moral  control  of  Deity  from  first  to  last,  so  that  the  penalty 
which  seems  at  first  to  be  simply  the  result  of  breaking  a natural 
law,  is  really  an  effect  of  that  providential  power  which  governs  the 
world.  Human  things  may  appear  to  the  unthinking  to  be  abso- 
lutely controlled  by  the  fixed  laws  of  our  being ; but  if  we  look 
beneath  the  surface,  we  see  the  hand  of  God  moving  all  the  springs, 
and  making  every  event,  even  those  arising  from  our  free  agency 
itself,  contribute  to  the  development  of  his  purposes. 

How  marvellous  an  exemplification  does  history  give  us  of  the 
manner  in  which  human  agency  is  blended  with  Divine  Providence  1 
The  sum  and  substance  of  the  world’s  history  is  but  the  aggregate 
of  the  voluntary  actions  of  mankind  upon  the  stage  of  human  life. 
Whilst,  however,  this  is  the  case,  yet  God  himself  has  composed 
the  drama ; it  is  he  that  framed  the  law  of  human  progress ; he  that 
orings  about  its  accomplishment  by  actions  which  to  us,  indeed, 
are  voluntary,  but  which,  notwithstanding,  form  a part  of  his  own 
great  plan  from  all  eternity.  To  the  man  who  looks  unbelievingly 
upon  Divine  Providence,  the  world’s  history  is  a problem  that  can 
never  be  solved. 

It  is  not  only  in  France  and  England,  however,  that  we  find  the 
influence  of  sensationalism  within  the  department  of  natural  phi- 
losophy. Germany,  too,  which  has  recently  been  making  great 
progress  in  physical  research,  has  just  given  rise  to  a work  of  ex- 
traordinary popularity,  which  stands  forth  in  bold  contrast  to  the 
rationalistic  systems  for  which  that  country  has  been  famed ; I 
mean  the  “ Cosmos”  of  the  Baron  von  Humboldt.  Little  more, 
perhaps,  could  be  observed  with  justice  respecting  the  sensational 
tendency  of  this  work,  than  the  total  rejection  which  the  author  in- 
dicates of  all  attempts  to  form  an  a priori  explanation  of  the  laws 
of  the  universe,  and  the  purely  objective  course  which  he  follows 
in  all  his  own  researches.  We  see  throughout  the  whole  the  traces 
of  a mind  in  which  the  observing  powers  are  wonderfully  active, 
while  the  eye  by  which  we  were  designed  to  gaze  upon  the  super- 


TENDENCIES  OF  SENSATIONALISM. 


got 


seiisual  and  spiritual  world  has,  comparatively  speaking,  grown  dim. 
The  value  of  the  facts  which  are  brought  forward  by  the  baron  is, 
of  course,  not  at  all  affected  by  this  objective  manner  of  viewing 
them  ; the  only  thing  to  be  wished  were  that  the  learned  autlior  had 
gained  some  idea  of  assigning  their  ends,  and  of  tracing  them  up  to 
their  Divine  and  spiritual  source.  On  this  point,  however,  his  lan- 
guage is  anything  but  satisfactory.  “ In  submitting,”  he  remarks, 
“ physical  phenomena  and  historical  events  to  the  exercise  of  the 
reflective  faculty,  and  in  ascending,  by  reasoning,  to  their  causes, 
we  become  more  and  more  penetrated  by  that  ancient  belief,  that 
the  forces  inherent  in  matter  and  those  regulating  the  moral  world 
exert  their  action  under  the  presence  of  a primordial  necessity,  and 
according  to  movements  periodically  renewed  at  longer  or  shorter 
intervals.”  And,  again,  he  says,  “True  to  the  character  of  my 
earlier  writings,  and  to  the  nature  of  my  occupations,  I confine 
myself  strictly  to  empirical  considerations.  This  is  the  only  ground 
upon  which  I feel  myself  competent  to  move  without  sense  of 
insecurity.”  And  so  this  is  the  end  of  a long  life’s  search  into 
the  wonders  and  glories  of  nature — either  to  hover  in  doubt  and 
insecurity  around  the  idea  of  a primordial  necessity,  or  to  entertain 
that  of  a godless  universe.  Thus  it  is,  while  the  spiritual  eye  and 
the  higher  reason  can  see  God  all  around,  the  sensational  theorist, 
forever  immersed  in  the  “dark  windings  of  the  material  and  the 
earthy,”  gradually  loses  all  perception  of  the  infinite  and  the  Di- 
vine. Here,  as  everywhere,  the  error  of  sensationalism  in  the  de- 
partment of  natural  .philosophy  is  one  of  defect ; the  observer  is 
impelled  onwards  to  an  unlimited  extent  in  the  collection  of  data, 
but  he  stops  short  in  his  investigation  ere  he  has  attempted  to  trace 
them  to  their  first  cause,  or  to  realize  the  manner  in  which  the 
material  is  all  cradled  and  embosomed  in  the  spiritual. 

So  far,  then,  we  notice  the  present  aspect  of  sensationalism  in 
its  cosmological  tendency ; we  now  add  a few  v/ords  respecting 
its  physiological  tendency.  Here,  as  in  the  last  case,  the  gross 
materialism  of  the  French  sensational  school  is  at  present  com- 
paratively seldom  met  with.  Few  will  at  present  attempt  to  ar- 
gue, like  Cabanis,  that  all  intelligence  consists  in  sensation,  and 
that  all  sensation  resides  in  the  nerves;  the  bolder  assumptions  of 
this  system  consequently  have  been  fairly  controverted  and  over- 
thrown. Whilst,  however,  the  system  as  a whole  has  been  re- 
futed, yet  the  same  doctrine  under  another  form  virtually  lives  on, 
in  that  peculiar  school  of  cerebral  physiology,  which  has  adopted 


698 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


extreme  phrenological  principles.  In  this  view  of  the  case,  ma- 
terialism has  far  greater  plausibility.  The  theory  of  Cabanis  was 
not  built  upon  any  true  idea.  It  was  an  enormous  error  to  assert, 
that  all  intelligence  is  but  a form  of  sensation ; and  not  less  so,  to 
suppose  that  sensation  resides  in  the  nerves ; but  the  materialism 
of  the  ultra-phrenologists  is  grounded  upon  a true  idea,  namely, 
that  cerebral  development  is  inseparably  connected  (as  we  are 
now  constituted)  with  mental  manifestation.  Let  the  notion  of 
efficient  causes  be  rejected  ; let  simple  antecedence  and  conse- 
quence be  regarded  as  the  whole  process  of  causation  ; and  from 
the  phrenological  hypothesis  materialism  necessarily  results.  The 
argument  lies  in  a small  compass.  Here  is  the  antecedent  on  the 
one  hand,  namely,  cerebral  excitement ; here  is  the  consequent  on 
the  other,  mental  manifestation.  What  need  have  we  of  any  link 
between  them,  termed  mind  or  spirit  ? The  whole  process  is  com- 
plete without  it.  The  reply  to  this  is  a simple  one,  namely,  that 
all  causation  implies  power  or  force ; that  power,  wherever  ex- 
erted or  through  whatever  medium,  is  an  immaterial  thing ; much 
more  so,  that  wondrous  power  of  which  we  are  hourly  conscious, 
and  which  we  term  mind.  The  due  analysis  of  the  idea  we  have 
under  the  one  term  power,  cuts  at  the  root  of  all  materialism,  of 
whatever  nature  or  complexion  it  may  be.  We  lay  the  more 
stress  upon  making  this  analysis  aright,  and  firmly  grasping  the 
idea  resulting  from  it,  because  the  present  tendency  of  sensation- 
alism, in  the  hands  of  the  phrenologist,  is  fast  bearing  us  back  to 
the  materialism  we  had  disowned,  and  can  only  be  stayed  by  up- 
holding the  infinite  distinction  between  the  organ  or  law  of  any 
operation  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  power  which  produces  it  on 
the  other. 

Before  we  conclude  these  remarks  upon  the  influence  of  sensa- 
tionalism within  the  department  of  physics,  we  must  add  a word 
or  two  respecting  its  influence  upon  the  method  of  scientific  inves- 
tigation. It  is  here  that  the  assistance  of  philosophy  is  more  im- 
mediately felt,  and  more  imperatively  demanded.  Vigorous  efforts 
have  been  put  forth  from  time  to  time  in  our  own  day,  to  reduce 
the  laws  of  induction  to  a system  of  definite  rules,  and  base  them 
upon  philosophical  principles  ; and  these  efforts  in  every  case  have 
been  modified  by  the  metaphysical  views  which  the  author  of  them 
has  adopted.  The  two  great  writers  on  the  logic  of  induction, 
which  our  age  can  boast  as  peculiarly  its  own,  are  Professor  Whe- 
well  and  Mr.  Mill,  whose  works,  when  put  side  by  side  with  each 


TENDENCIES  OF  SENSATIONALISM. 


699 


other,  present  a very  instructive  instance  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  fundamental  principles  of  philosophy  can  bear  upon  the  method 
of  scientific  research.  The  former,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is 
decidedly  of  an  anti- sensational  tendency  ; and  the  effect  of  this  is 
seen  in  the  whole  theory  he  has  propounded  respecting  the  con- 
struction of  science.*  The  latter  must  be  reckoned  as  belonging 
to  the  sensationalist  school.  Yet  so  different  in  his  sensationalism 
from  what  we  have  seen  in  the  French  materialist,  that  we  may 
almost  regard  him  as  a proof  of  the  reaction  which  has  set  in 
against  their  extreme  empirical  principles.  The  stress  which  is 
laid  upon  the  deductive  method,  the  close,  and  often  admirable 
analyses  which  are  given  of  many  of  our  fundamental  conceptions, 
and  the  whole  tone  of  philosophical  thinking  by  which  his  “ Logic” 
is  characterized,  manifest  a very  different  spirit  from  that  of  the 
shallow  empiricism  of  the  preceding  age.  We  believe  that  the 
method  of  science  in  the  hands  of  such  analysts  is  not  destined  to 
continue  slavishly  conformed  to  the  Baconian  model,  but  that  it 
will  become  more  and  more  deductive,  in  proportion  as  the  data 
are  enlarged  upon  which  legitimate  deduction  can  proceed. 

B.  We  advance  now  to  notice  the  tendencies  of  sensationalism, 
as  seen  in  the  department  of  legislation.  Many  of  the  philosophers, 
both  of  ancient  and  modern  times,  who  have  taken  any  comprehen- 
sive views  of  mental  science,  have  applied  their  system  to  the  in- 
vestigation of  the  fundamental  principles  of  jurisprudence.  Seve- 
ral of  our  English  philosophical  writers,  for  example,  from  Hobbes 
downwards,  have  applied  their  principles  to  the  elucidation  of  this 
subject ',  and  a still  greater  number,  perhaps,  of  the  French  moral- 
ists, induced,  probably,  by  the  political  aspect  of  their  country, 
have  attempted  to  philosophize  upon  the  grounds  of  law,  govern- 
ment, and  social  life.  Germany,  too,  though  so  much  more  fixed 
in  its  political  relations,  and  so  much  more  given  to  transcendental 
researches,  yet  has  not  been  behindhand  in  deducing  theoides  of 
legislation  from  the  different  metaphysical  systems  it  has  origi- 
nated. Thus,  it  is  evident,  that  the  various  philosophical  ideas, 
which  have  been  in  vogue,  have  had  great  influence  upon  the  po- 
litical principles  of  every  age. 

Now,  if  all  human  knowledge  be  reducible  to  the  three  funda- 
mental ideas  of  self,  nature,  and  God,  it  follows,  that  every  theory 
of  law  and  government  must  find  its  primary  conception  in  one  of 
these  notions.  On  passing  the  diffei’ent  theories  of  government 

* See  our  remarks  upon  Whewell,  in  the  section  upon  Modern  English  Idealism. 


700 


MODERN  PIIU.OSOPHY. 


before  our  view,  we  find,  accordingly,  that  they  admit  of  a very 
easy  classification,  on  this  principle.  Some  jurists,  for  example, 
regard  all  law  as  proceeding  from  God;  his  is  the  right  supreme, 
and  He  has  delegated  a divine  right  to  whomsoever  He  will,  to 
exercise  power  and  authority  in  the  world.  Those,  accordingly, 
to  whom  this  right  is  granted,  are  the  only  proper  dispensers  of 
law  to  man — every  human  enactment  being  founded  on  the  Divine 
will,  expressed  through  them  as  its  appointed  organ.  Another 
theory,  or,  we  may  say,  class  of  theories,  is  built  upon  the  inde- 
structible facts  and  phenomena  of  the  human  mind.  Man  has  the 
notion  of  justice  ; he  se.es  in  every  fellow-man  the  possessor  of 
certain  inalienable  rights  ; and  upon  these  firm  moral  convictions 
of  the  human  mind,  the  social  fabric  is  to  be  erected.  Again,  a 
third  hypothesis  bases  all  human  legislation  upon  mere  expediency 
or  utility  ; moral  principle,  as  a separate  ground  of  legal  enact- 
ment, being  discarded,  and  the  outward  happiness  of  the  commu- 
nity being  the  sole  guide,  by  which  the  legislator  is  to  be  directed 
in  his  course. 

Of  these  three  hypotheses,  the  last  is  evidently  that  which  would 
result  from  a sensational  philosophy ; the  two  former  would  as 
naturally  flow  from  an  idealistic  or  a mystical  system.  Sensational 
ethics  affirm,  that  a thing  is  right  because  it  is  expedient — the 
ethics  of  idealism  maintain,  that  it  is  expedient  because  it  is  right. 
In  this,  we  have  presented  to  us  the  great  question,  w'hich  stands 
at  the  threshold  of  all  morals  and  all  legislation ; and  it  is  accord- 
ing as  the  one  or  other  hypothesis  is  accepted,  that  the  whole  com- 
plexion of  the  succeeding  system  will  be  determined.  Let  us  see 
how  these  conclusions  are  illustrated  by  the  history  of  the  present 
century. 

No  author,  in  modern  times,  has  advocated  the  sensational  the- 
ory of  morals  with  so  great  w'armth  and  vigor  as  Jeremy  Bentham  ; 
it  is  in  the  political  school  of  Bentham,  therefore,  that  we  are  to 
look  for  the  due  influence  of  sensationalism,  as  applied  to  the  de- 
partment of  legislation.  And  what  is  the  doctrine  which  that 
school  has  maintained  ? It  has  maintained,  that  the  sole  basis  of 
right  is  expediency ; that  the  sole  incentive  to  human  action  is 
self-interest;  and  that  all  law'  and  all  government  must  proceed 
upon  the  supposition,  that  men  will  be  influenced  exclusively  by 
motives  of  personal  advancement.  This  doctrine,  indeed,  w^e  must 
admit,  holds  a somewhat  strong  position,  from  the  fact  of  its  em- 
bodying so  large  an  amount  of  truth,  to  counterbalance  its  great 


TE\DENCIE3  OF  SENSATIONALISM. 


701 


deficiency  in  principle.  No  one  can  deny  that  self-interest  is  a 
very  fruitful  motive  to  human  action,  and  that  the  legislator  must 
keep  this  in  view,  in  all  the  details  of  his  legislative  arrangements. 
It  was  just  to  this  point,  therefore,  that  Bentham  directed  his  chief 
attention ; and  few  there  are  who  would  be  unwilling  to  accord 
him  his  meed  of  praise,  for  the  many  abuses  he  exposed,  and  the 
many  sound  truths  he  inculcated.  But  with  all  his,  we  are  far  from 
thinking  that  Bentham  rose  to  the  full  height  of  his  argument,  or 
rested  his  primary  principles  upon  a right  foundation.  Legislation, 
when  adapted  simply  to  the  outward  circumstances  of  the  com- 
munity, and  springing  from  the  morals  of  self-interest,  may,  at  first 
sight,  appear  very  popular  in  its  results ; but,  with  all  this,  it  is  for- 
gotten, that  men  are  by  far  the  most  powerfully  moved  by  educa- 
tional, moral,  and  spiritual  motives,  and  that,  while  immediate 
abuses  can  be  kept  off  by  an  external  policy,  yet  the  true  great- 
ness, happiness,  and  stability  of  a country  can  only  be  secured  by 
inculcating,  by  all  possible  methods,  in  all  institutions,  and  upon  all 
minds,  eternal  justice  and  truth.  The  principle  of  expediency,  we 
allow,  must  not  be,  by  any  means,  neglected,  in  legislating  for  the 
physical  interests  of  the  people  ; but  expediency  becomes  a danger 
and  a curse,  the  moment  it  fails  to  take  its  stand  upon  the  laws  of 
our  moral  nature,  upon  the  principles  of  eternal  rectitude,  between 
man  and  man. 

By  far  the  most  able  advocate  of  Bentham’s  school  of  legislation, 
in  this  country,  was  Mr.  James  Mill ; and  as  this  acute  wi'iter  has 
given  us  both  an  “ Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind,”  and  an  “ Essay 
on  Government,”  we  can,  in  his  case,  trace  the  influence  of  a sen- 
sational philosophy  upon  the  theoiy  of  legislation,  with  much  greater 
ease  and  distinctness.  The  whole  theory  is  here  seen  to  flow  from 
the  fundamental  principle  that  all  our  mental  phenomena  arise  from 
sensation,  as  their  primary  source.  If  this  principle  be  true,  then 
sensation  is  generically  the  same  as  desire ; desire,  moreover,  is 
identical  with  the  will.  Consequently,  all  the  phenomena  of  our 
moral  being  are  but  different  cases,  in  which  we  seek  the  fulfilment 
of  our  desires  ; that  is,  in  other  words,  the  gratification  of  our  sen- 
sitivity. With  such  a psychology,  morals  become  necessarily  of 
the  selfish  character ; all  motives  to  action  must  centre  in  our  per- 
sonal happiness  ; and  legislation,  consequently,  must  regard  man  as 
impelled  by  no  other  impulses  or  principles,  in  the  whole  course  of 
his  practical  life. 

The  axiom,  that  men  follow  their  interest,  whenever  they  know 


702 


AIODEKN  PHILOSOPHY. 


it,  cannot,  we  contend,  be  sustained  with  any  approach  to  plausi- 
bility. For  what  does  intei'est  mean  ? If  it  mean  the  general 
well-being,  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  numbei',  then  we 
know  that  many  will  sacrifice  this  to  their  own  private  ends ; or, 
if  it  mean  the  prominent  desire  which  exists,  at  any  given  time, 
in  the  mind,  then  we  know  that  many  desire,  and  feel  that  they 
desire,  what  is  not  to  their  interest  at  all.  In  the  whole  of  this 
theory  of  expediency,  whether  applied  to  ethics  or  legislation,  there 
is  an  omission  of  the  element  of  the  will,  the  human  personality, 
with  all  the  moral  principles  originally  impressed  upon  it.  Once 
regard  men  as  possessors  of  a moral  nature,  as  impelled  or  restrained 
by  the  voice  of  conscience,  as  having  the  broad  distinctions  of  right 
and  wrong  marked  out  in  plain  characters  upon  their  very  being, 
and  inheriting  a freedom  of  action,  by  which  they  can  follow  vol- 
untarily the  one  course  or  the  other  ; once  regard  them,  in  a word, 
as  having  a tribunal  of  justice  within,  and  convinced  of  an  eternal 
justice  hereafter,  and  you  see  before  you  springs  of  action  more 
potent  than  all  self-interest,  and  elements  of  social  life,  which  must 
lie  at  the  basis  of  all  true  legislation.  Sensationalism,  wanting  in 
these  fundamental  ideas  and  principles,  has  thrown  out  upon  the 
public,  from  time  to  time,  theories  of  goverrunent,  as  crude  in  their 
plan,  as  Utopian  in  their  execution.  Social  systems  in  England, 
industrial  theories  on  the  Continent,  and  models  of  republics  in  both, 
have  been  held  up  for  the  admiration  of  the  world  ; but  all,  as  far 
as  they  I'egard  man  merely  in  his  external  relations,  and  consider 
him  as  the  creature  of  outward  ch’cumstances,  evince  a radical 
deficiency,  which  nothing  but  sounder  views  of  human  nature  can 
supply.  If  the  actions  of  mankind  are  to  be  regulated,  so  as  to 
conduce  to  the  ultimate  welfare  of  the  community,  then  the  foun- 
dation of  all  such  regulations  is  to  be  found,  not  in  a calculation  of 
consequences,  which,  to  our  short-sightedness,  must  be  infinitely 
imperfect,  but  in  a clear  comprehension  of  those  moral  laws,  which 
God  himself  has  formed,  as  the  directories  of  human  action,  and  the 
sources  of  the  gradual  perfection  of  human  society. 

C.  It  yet  remains  to  notice  the  tendency  of  sensationalism,  as 
exhibited  in  its  bearing  upon  theologij.  As  all  human  knowledge 
rests  upon  the  three  notions  of  nature,  mind,  and  God,  it  follows, 
that  an  intelligence,  in  which  these  notions  each  occupy  their  due 
place,  and  keep  up  the  exact  balance  which  was  intended  to  exist 
in  our  mental  constitution,  must  be  in  the  most  natural  and  per- 
fect state  of  development.  Experience  shows  us,  that  if  one  of 


TENDENCIES  OF  SENSATIONALISM. 


703 


these  notions  become  too  prominent,  the  other  two  must  propor- 
tionally sink  into  the  shade,  until,  perchance,  their  fading  hues 
entirely  vanish  away. 

Now,  theology,  in  its  broadest  acceptation,  is  based  upon  two 
of  these  fundamental  notions — those,  namely,  of  mind  and  of  God. 
Accordingly,  if  the  idea  of  the  material,  or  the  visible,  become  all- 
predominant in  the  mind,  just  in  the  same  proportion,  (and  that  by 
a fixed  law  of  our  nature,)  must  the  thoughts,  on  which  theology 
is  built,  become  dim,  and  the  theology  itself  be  shallow  and  incom- 
plete. Hence  it  is,  that  the  mind,  w'hose  attention  is  mainly  di- 
rected to  external  things,  experiences  a want  of  intensity  in  all  its 
religious  conceptions,  and  though  speculatively  convinced  of  their 
truth,  yet  can  never  realize  them  with  clearness  and  with  power. 
On  these  principles,  we  can  easily  estimate  the  effect  of  a sensa- 
tional philosophy  upon  man’s  perception  of  religious  truth ; for, 
just  in  proportion  as  the  sensational  element  becomes  more  pre- 
dominant, shall  we  find  elevated  and  spiritual  views,  both  of  God 
and  of  man,  dying  away,  until  they  become  at  length  altogether 
unappreciated. 

First,  let  us  illustrate  the  truth  of  these  conclusions,  with  respect 
to  our  theistic  conceptions.  The  unbeclouded  reason,  in  the  pres- 
ent state  of  man’s  mental  development,  conceives  of  God,  as  an 
infinite  personality ; to  it,  the  immensity  of  the  Deity  does  not 
detract  aught  from  his  individuality,  as  the  presiding  mind,  that 
directs  the  universe  by  unerring  wisdom  and  benevolence.  Nay, 
further ; philosophy  has  not  repudiated  the  existence  of  those  diver- 
sities in  the  Divine  unity,  the  reflection  of  which  there  is  in  man 
himself.  The  spiritual  vision,  even  of  some  heathen  minds,  did 
not  fail  to  see  in  the  infinite  being  that  blending  of  unity  and  plu- 
rality, which  is  the  type  of  all  perfection ; and  to  the  Christian 
idealist,  the  mystery  of  a Trinity  has  rarely  proved  a stone  of 
stumbling,  or  a rock  of  offence.  But  no  sooner  does  reason  be- 
come “ immersed  in  matter,”  than  these  conceptions  of  Deity  grow 
strange  and  incredible — his  personality,  as  a mind,  becomes  grad- 
ually sunk  in  the  general  notion  of  a great  first  cause,  and  his  spe- 
cific moral  attributes,  in  the  physical  idea  of  his  immensity  and 
infinity. 

Were  we  called  upon  to  explain  the  progressive  influence  of 
sensationaism  upon  man’s  theistic  conceptions,  we  should  do  so 
somewhat  in  the  following  manner.  The  first  effect  is  to  weaken 
our  perception  of  the  Divine  personality ; this,  in  the  second  place, 


704 


MODERN  I’UlLOSOrilY. 


makes  itself  apparent  by  overturning  the  doctrine  of  a particula) 
providence  ; next,  in  order  to  remove  the  Divine  working  furthei 
away  from  the  world,  secondary  causes  are  adduced  to  explain,  not 
only  all  the  phenomena  of  nature,  but  also  the  direction  of  human 
life  ; and  then,  lastly,  the  process  advancing  one  step  further,  ii 
begins  to  be  an  object  of  speculation  and  of  doubt  whether  there 
be  a distinct  personality  in  the  Deity  or  not ; until,  at  length,  the 
conception  of  God  is  entirely  blended  with  that  of  the  order  and 
unity  of  nature. 

Again,  equally  decisive  is  the  effect  of  sensationalism  upon  the 
views  we  have  been  taught  to  entertain  of  man  as  a creature  of 
God.  To  the  eye  of  sense  a state  of  moral  perfection  is  something 
altogether  transcendental — the  dream  of  some  glowing  imagina- 
tion. To  it  the  present  life  appears  void  of  any  moral  perturba- 
tion ; man  needs  no  redemption  from  it ; he  requires  no  Divine 
impulse  beyond  what  exists  originally  in  his  own  faculties ; and  as 
for  immortality,  it  is  a boon  which  he  may  long  to  realize,  but  the 
reality  of  which  is  by  no  means  clear  and  certain.  In  a woi'd, 
man  is  to  the  sensationalist  wholly  material;  his  pleasure  on  earth 
is  but  the  result  of  nervous  affections ; and  it  is  hard  to  give  any 
reason  why  the  capacity  of  thought  itself  should  not  pass  away  for- 
ever when  the  bodily  structure  is  dissolved  by  death. 

Such,  we  might  predict,  would  naturally  be  the  dictates  of  a 
sensational  philosophy  ; such,  experience  tells  us,  that  they  actually 
are.  . The  first  real  philosopher  of  more  recent  times,  who  advo- 
cated the  doctrines  of  materialism  with  zeal  and  ability,  was  Dr. 
Priestley  ; and  the  influence  of  these  doctrines  upon  his  theologi- 
cal views  was  plain  and  undeniable.  We  see  in  him  a living  rep- 
resentative of  the  sensational  theologian,  in  the  first  stage  of  his 
progress  towards  the  system 'we  have  just  described.  That  this  is 
the  tendency  of  Priestley’s  Philosophy,  as  it  regards  theological 
opinion,  has  been  granted  by  many  of  his  own  professed  followers, 
both  in  England  and  America.  Not  a few  have  felt  and  lamented 
the  want  of  depth  and  intensity  in  spirlual  ideas,  which  the  incul- 
cation of  that  philosophy  gradually  superinduced,  and,  as  the  best 
evidence  of  this  conviction,  have  renounced  sensationa!i.sm,  in 
order  to  find  in  a more  spiritual  philosophy  an  antagonist  tendency, 
and  a more  steady  ground  of  belief  in  the  soul,  in  immortality,  and 
in  God.  Wherever  sensationalism,  however,  has  gone  on,  uncon- 
trolled either  by  a belief  in  revelation  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  an- 
tagonism of  idealistic  doctrines  on  the  other,  (a  state  of  things 


TENDENCIES  OF  SENSATIONALISM. 


705 


which  we  see  exemplified  in  France  at  the  commencement  of  the 
present  century,)  little  additional  impulse  has  there  been  required 
to  draw  the  deluded  minds  of  its  votaries  into  such  an  abyss  of 
scepticism  as  we  have  already  described. 

To  go  very  particularly  into  this  branch  of  the  subject,  how- 
ever, might,  we  fear,  seem  to  savor  *of  religious  partisanship  rather 
than  philosophical  impartiality.  To  prevent  this,,  we  shall  avoid 
entering  into  details,  and  confine  ourselves  to  the  assertion  of  this 
one  fact : that  where  the  study  of  nature,  in  its  various  phenom- 
ena, occupies  the  mind’s  chief  attention  ; where  there  is  the  per- 
petual attempt  to  account  for  everything  by  some  secondary,  and 
that,  perchance,  a material  cause ; where  the  notion  of  matter  ab- 
sorbs that  of  force,  and  the  trains  of  thought  flow  habitually  to- 
wards the  visible  rather  than  the  invisible,  there  has  ever  been  a 
weakening  of  our  ideas  of  God,  of  providence,  of  inspiration,  of 
moral  perfection,  and  of  immortality  hereafter.  By  the  mere 
force  of  a mental  habit,  all  our  religious  conceptions  may  be  di- 
luted without  one  of  them  being  formally  renounced  ; until,  at 
length,  the  impression  of  them  fades  away,  and  they  all  sink  to- 
gether into  oblivion. 

These  assertions,  we  fear,  are  exemplified  to  a very  wide  extent 
in  the  theological  life  of  the  present  day.  England  is,  at  this  mo- 
ment, almost  entirely  destitute  of  a spiritual  philosophy ; for  the 
few  attempts  which  have  been  recently  put  forth  to  create  one, 
have  not  as  yet  made  any  extensive  progress,  even  amongst  the 
more  thoughtful  of  the  people.  Devoid,  therefore,  of  this  influ- 
ence, and  absorbed  so  largely  in  the  practical,  the  minds,  even  of 
the  educated  classes,  have  everything  to  attract  them  to  external, 
interests,  and  almost  nothing  to  lead  them  into  the  regions  of  deep 
spiritual  reflection.  It  is  useless  to  urge,  in  reply  to  this,  that  the 
people  have  pure  religious  principles  inculcated  upon  them  as  a 
guide  to  the  higher  life  ; for,  however  pure  may  be  the  system  of 
religion  that  is  presented,  yet,  if  reflective  habits  are  not  formed 
and  nurtured,  religion  itself  will  quickly  assume  the  coloring  of  the 
medium  through  which  it  is  viewed,  and  ritualism  boldly  station 
itself  instead  of  penitence  at  the  confessional,  and  instead  of 
prayer  at  the  altar ; yea,  and  will  even  mount  the  sacred  desk  in 
the  place  of  holy  intelligence,  to  defend  a system,  instead  of  con- 
tending earnestly  for  truth. 

Ritualism,  more  or  less,  prevails  in  the  present  age  amongst  alii 
communities  ; a necessary  result,  indeed,  of  the  absence  of  a spirit- 

45 


706 


j:cDi:r.\'  philosophy. 


ual  philosojihy.  Even  if  there  be  in  many  cases  sincerity  enough, 
yet  there  is  for  the  most  part  too  little  of  the  reflective,  too  much 
impatience  at  thinking  beyond  the  leading-strings  of  custom  or  of 
sense,  too  weak  a capacity  of  realizing  the  spiritual,  except  in 
name,  to  resist  its  chilling  encroachments.  The  tendency  of  the 
religious  life  amongst  us  is  almost  always  towards  outward  com- 
bination. That  is  to  say,  men  rely  upon  each  other  in  the  battle 
ot  good  against  evil,  instead  of  relying  upon  the  might  of  truth  to 
conquer  the  world.  Christianity  is  thought  to  flourish  in  propor- 
tion as  we  can  form  societies,  raise  wealth  to  maintain  them,  and 
call  together  large  masses  of  minds  at  once  to  express  their  joy, 
and  feed  their  excitement.  Little  is  it  considered  that  one  mind, 
going  forth  into  the  world,  with  an  intense  realization  of  the  spirit- 
ual, armed  with  the  deepest  subjective  convictions  of  truth,  and 
cherishing  a calm,  but  piercing  faith,  instead  of  a vague  educa- 
tional belief,  will  do  more  for  the  Church  and  for  the  world,  than  a 
' thousand  minds  valiant  only  for  a system. 

To  these  convictions  many  are  unquestionably  becoming  alive. 
There  is,  we  believe,  a perception  nascent  throughout  Europe, 
that  Christianity  is  as  yet  too  much  on  the  surface,  and  too  little 
absorbed  by  the  intellectual  nature  of  man ; that  it  has  been  too 
much  an  affair  of  education  and  profession,  and  too  little  a great 
■necessity  ftir  satisfying  the  reason.  As  Catholicism  was  based 
upon  the  infallibility  of  the  Church,  so  Protestantism  has  been 
based  upon  the  infallibility  of  the  Creed.  Perhaps  the  next  step 
in  the  historical  development  of  Christianity  may  be  that,  in  which 
both  shall  rally  round  the  infallibility  of  absolute  and  eternal  truth 
as  developed  in  the  Christian  system,  and  leave  all  contention  for 
the  temporary  and  the  relative  to  die  away.  To  such  a consum- 
mation the  rise  of  a spiritual  philosophy  alone  can  lead  the  way. 

Looking  around,  then,  upon  the  philosophical  horizon  as  a whole, 
ive  can  hardly  fail  to  see  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  objective  char- 
acter of  the  present  age,  the  star  of  sensationalism  is  on  the  wane. 
Never  had  it  appeared  with  such  brightness  as  it  did  at  the  close 
of  the  last  century,  and  the  beginning  of  the  present.  In  every 
country,  how'ever,  the  reaction  has  taken  place.  Germany  is  still 
idealistic’;  France  has  abjured  its  materialism  ; England  is  becom- 
ing divided  between  the  philosophy  of  Scotland  and  Germany; 
and  even  in  America,  Locke  has  become  well  nigh  obsolete.  The 
effects  of  this  reaction  are  now  to  be  looked  for  in  all  the  different 
.spheres  of  mental  activity ; and  oh,  may  these  pulsations  of  the 


TENDEN'CIES  OF  IDEALISM. 


707 


great  spirit  of  humanity  lead  us  ever  nearer  to  happiness  and  to 
truth. 


Sect.  II. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Idealism. 

Few  unprejudiced  minds  would  now  deny  that  idealism  (we  use 
the  word  in  its  broadest  signification)  occupies  at  present  a proud 
position  before  the  face  of  Europe.  In  one  form  or  another  it  is 
enthroned  in  almost  all  the  schools  of  learning  Avhere  philosophy  is 
studied.  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh  have  both  come  back,  with  little 
exception,  to  the  philosophy  of  Reid ; and  seem  to  be  recanting 
the  sensational  heresy  they  began  to  imbibe  under  the  impressive 
genius  of  Brown  and  Mylne.  Cambridge  no  longer  bows  to  the 
authority  of  Locke  or  Hartley ; but,  amidst  all  its  devotedness  to 
physical  science,  is  evincing  a manifest  sympathy  with  intellectual 
philosophy,  and  clearly  indicating  that  the  tendency  of  many  minds 
is  verging  towards  the  spiritual  and  the  ideal.  In  the  schools  of 
France  the  power  and  energy  of  eclecticism,  as  developed  in 
recent  times,  has  turned  the  ideological  system  well  nigh  into  a 
matter  of  past  history ; whilst  Germany,  from  Koenigsberg  to 
Basle,  is  still  advocating  the  most  profound  systems  of  idealism. 
To  the  attentive  observer  it  is  most  evident,  that  there  has  been 
infused  into  European  society  a stronger  faith  in  the  spiritual  than 
existed  at  the  commencement  of  the  present  century.  The  reign 
of  sense  has  begun  to  give  way  to  that  of  reflection ; and  it  is  now 
at  least  possible  to  bring  out  our  thoughts  respecting  divine  and 
supersensual  things,  even  in  a philosophical  form,  without  being 
met  with  a smile  either  of  pity  or  contempt.  Literature  has 
caught  the  radiance  of  these  loftier  conceptions,  and  poetry  has 
found  in  them  a field  of  delight,  hitherto  almost  untried.  Minds 
which  could  only  relish  the  stimulating  sensualism  of  Byron  begin 
to  feel  that  there  is  something  which  strikes  a deeper  note  to  the 
inmost  soul  in  the  poetic  philosophy  of  V/ordsworth.  The  influ- 
ence of  the  flesh  (to  use  a scriptural  phrase),  with  its  passions  and 
instincts,  is  yielding  to  the  might  of  the  spirit.  We  shall  proceed, 
therefore,  to  make  a few  observations  in  order  to  exhibit  the  pres- 
ent tendencies  of  idealism,  as  evinced  in  science,  legislation,  and 
religion. 

1.  And,  first,  with  regard  to  science.  Here  the  effect  of  meta- 
physical investigations  is,  perhaps,  less  readily  observed  than  in 


70S 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


many  otlier  departments  of  human  knowledge.  Science  depends 
so  much  upon  empirical  observation  and  experiment,  that  our  atten- 
tion is  almost  certain  to  be  directed  to  them  as  the  chief  agents  in 
its  progress.  It  should  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  the  method 
of  scientific  research  is  owing  very  little  to  outward  observation, 
but  almost  entirely  to  philosophical  thinking ; and  that  upon  the 
employment  of  the  right  method  mainly  depends  all  real  success. 
In  addition  to  this,  it  should  also  be  kept  in  mjnd  that  funda- 
mental questions  in  physics  always  partake  of  an  abstract  or  specu- 
lative charactei’,  which  can  be  elucidated  by  no  empirical  process 
whatever.  The  influence  of  idealism,  therefore,  within  the  de- 
partment of  science,  will  be  seen  chiefly  in  the  improved  methods 
of  investigation,  and  in  the  more  accurate  study  and  fuller  eluci- 
dation of  the  primary  ideas  on  which  science  itself  is  founded. 
To  verify  this  experimentally,  we  must  see  if  it  be  borne  out  by 
the  facts,  which  the  recent  history  of  science  has  presented. 

For  this  purpose  let  any  one  compare  the  writings  of  our  living 
philosophers  with  those  of  the  brilliant  age  of  the  French  Ency- 
clopajdia,  and  say  whether  the  contrast  in  this  respect  is  not  at 
once  most  obvious.  Let  him  take  down  a volume  of  D’Alembert, 
and  after  that,  one  on  a similar  subject  by  Whewell,  and  then  ob- 
serve how  much  more  fully  and  satisfactorily  the  latter  of  the  two 
has  probed  the  primary  conceptions  of  science,  and  how  much 
more  readily  he  draws  inferences  of  pure  reason  from  outward  and 
visible  things.  The  one  generalizes  the  objects  of  nature  in  their 
external  relations,  the  other  traces  the  phenomena  around  us  to  the 
primary  conception,  subjectively  considered,  from  which  they 
spring.  To  the  former  nature  is  exactly  what  it  appears  to  the 
eye — a stupendous  machinery  ever  proceeding  onwards  by  regular 
and  unerring  laws ; to  the  latter  it  is  a glorious  mystery  necessa- 
rily prompting  us  to  the  conception  of  spiritual  agencies,  which 
agencies  are  in  fact  only  the  “ Indications  of  the  Creator,”  the  va- 
ried forms  in  which  a divine  and  spiritual  power  is  diffusing  itself 
through  its  own  immense  creation. 

The  importance  of  duly  explaining  the  conceptions  of  science, 
and  of  drawing  from  the  phenomena  of  the  natural  world  infer- 
ences respecting  the  spiritual,  is  twofold.  First,  it  is  of  no  little 
value  to  the  right  interpretation  of  the  facts  which  are  adduced, 
that  these  conceptions  should  be  clearly  apprehended.  This  view 
of  the  case  has  been  proved  and  illustrated  by  Dr.  Whewell,  accom- 
panied with  a most  copious  selection  of  examples  drawn  from 


TENDENCIES  OF  IDEALISM. 


709 


almost  all  the  branches  of  natural  philosophy.  Oh  this  point, 
therefore,  we  shall  not  enter  more  fully  at  present,  but  refer  the 
reader  to  the  explanations  he  will  find  in  the  “ Philosophy  of  the 
Inductive  Sciences.”  But,  secondly,  apart  from  all  this,  the  influ- 
ence of  nature  upon  the  human  mind,  morally  considered,  is  incon- 
ceivably altered  when  we  view  everything  around  us  as  replete 
with  life,  and  that  life  divine.  To  our  moral  instincts,  what  avails 
a huge  piece  of  unconscious  mechanism,  however  perfect  and  har- 
monious ? The  idea  of  an  eternal  and  irresistible  necessity,  how'- 
ever  it  may  inspire  us  with  awe,  does  not  strike  a single  chord  of 
our  better  feelings.  But  when  this  mechanism  is  recognized  as  the 
direct  product  of  a mind,  or  a personality  like  our  own,  when  it  is 
regarded  as  answering  some  great  and  beneficent  end,  as  moving 
ever  onwards  to  ’some  vast  destiny ; then,  indeed,  nature  appears 
no  longer  dead  ; she  becomes  replete  with  moral  significancy ; she 
appeals  to  our  deepest  sympathies  and  feelings ; she  is  the  very 
link  that  connects  us  with  Deity  itself. 

From  these  observations  we  form  the  general  conclusion,  that 
the  tendency  which  idealism  exhibits  in  connection  with  physical 
science,  is  to  raise  the  idea  of  nature  above  that  of  mechanism, 
and  to  impart  to  it  a life  and  a soul.  Sensationalism  views  all  the 
phenomena  of  the  universe  merely  as  a dull  succession  of  changes. 
Idealism  views  them  as  the  productions  of  a living  agency.  By 
the  former,  the  conception  of  power  as  effecting  change  around  us 
is  depressed  or  disowned ; by  the  latter,  it  is  raised  to  the  promi- 
nence which  it  rightly  demands. 

Accordingly,  if  power  be  something  real  (though  supersensual) 
we  are  almost  necessarily  led,  by  an  ideal  philosophy,  to  inquire 
into  its  origin  and  nature.  The  powers  inherent  in  unorganized 
masses — the  powers  of  vegetable  and  animal  life — the  powers  of 
passion  and  instinct — the  powers  of  human  intelligence — all  be- 
come subjects,  not  of  transcendental  speculation,  but  of  philosophi- 
cal interest.  We  find,  in  them,  so  many  secondary  causes,  more 
or  less  closely  related  to  the  one  great  first  cause,  from  whom  all 
existence  is  an  emanation.  And  such  deductions,  it  must  be  ob- 
served, fall  strictly  within  the  compass  of  science  ; they  are  rational 
inferences,  drawn  quite  in  accordance  with  the  constitution  of  our 
own  minds,  and  equally  valid,  in  their  origin,  with  the  very  axioms 
upon  which  induction  itself  is  founded.  Thus,  by  the  application 
of  idealism  to  the  elucidation  of  science,  we  are  introduced  into  a 


710 


WODEKN  PHILOSOPHY. 


new  sphere  (^T  discovery,  at  once  of  intense  interest,  and  incalcula- 
ble value. 

In  confirmation  of  these  views,  we  appeal  to  the  words  of  Sir  J. 
Herschel,  at  a late  meeting  of  the  British  Association.  “ The  fact 
is  every  year  becoming  more  broadly  manifest,  by  the  successive 
application  of  scientific  principles  to  subjects  that  had  been  hitherto 
empirically  treated,  that  the  great  work  of  Bacon  was  not  the  com- 
pletion, but,  as  he  foresaw  and  foretold,  only  the  commencement  of 
his  own  philosophy ; that  we  are  yet  only  at  the  threshold  of  the 
palace  of  truth,  which  succeeding  generations  will  range  over  as 
their  own  ; a world  of  scientific  inquiry,  in  which,  not  matter  only, 
and  its  properties,  but  the  far  more  rich  and  complex  relations  of 
life  and  thought,  of  passion  and  motive,  of  interest  and  action,  will 
come  to  be  regarded  as  its  legitimate  objects.” 

It  is  needless  to  say,  that,  upon  sensational  principles,  such  an 
extension  of  the  objects  of  scientific  research  could  never  be  real- 
ized ; on  idealistic  principles,  however,  it  becomes,  at  length,  inev- 
itable. Although  science,  therefore,  may  be  cradled  in  visible  and 
empirical  facts,  yet,  by  the  aid  of  reason,  it  infers  the  existence  of 
other  facts  and  other  agents  which  lie  beyond  sense  ; and,  not  con- 
tent w’ith  this,  it  proceeds  onward  in  its  search,  until  all  the  secon- 
dary agencies  are  seen  to  converge  in  one  centre,  where  is  their 
common  source,  and  that  centre  is  God.  Such,  then,  is  the  ten- 
dency which  idealism  exhibits  in  connection  with  physical  research 
— a tendency,  which  is  indispensable  to  the  full  development  of 
scientific  truth,  and  still  more  so  to  its  due  influence  upon  the  mind 
of  man. 

Great  as  may  be  the  service  of  idealism,  however,  in  the  depart- 
ment of  natural  philosophy,  yet  it  may  easily  overstep  the  mark, 
and  transform  a science  of  rigid  induction  into  one  of  mere  hy- 
pothesis. Its  abuse,  in  this  respect,  has  been  quite  as  frequently 
experienced  in  the  world,  as  its  proper  use ; and  we  should  be  far 
from  faithful  representers  of  its  full  tendencies,  were  we  to  pass  by 
these  errors  unnoticed.  The  empirical  extreme,  we  have  seen,  on 
the  one  hand,  denies  that  the  process  of  scientific  investigation  has 
anything  to  do,  beyond  the  observation  and  classification  of  facts, 
— the  idealistic  extreme,  on  the  other,  contends  that  facts  may  be 
altogether  dispensed  with,  and  that  a whole  system  of  natural  phi- 
losophy may  be  erected  upon  purely  a priori,  or  rationalistic  prin- 
ciples. 

Schelling’s  “ Natur-Philosophie,”  and  Hegel’s  development  of 


TENDENCIES  OF  IDEALISM. 


711 


the  “ Dialectic  Process,”  are  the  most  perfect  instances  we  have  of 
this  extreme.  In  both  cases  there  is  a bold  attempt  made  to  grasp 
the  fundamental  law  of  being,  in  its  most  general  form ; and  then, 
by  logical  inference,  to  construct  the  universe.  The  law  being 
either  assumed  or  discovered,  or  said  to  be  known  by  intellectual 
intuition,  in  the  outset,  the  attempt  is  made  to  evolve  from  it  the 
whole  process  and  the  whole  product  of  creation  itself.  Now  we 
would  not  deny,  indeed,  but  that  reason,  w'hen  stimulated  and 
directed  by  facts,  may  sometimes  anticipate  the  results  of  induction, 
and  rise,  almost  by  a leap,  at  some  lajv  of  nature.  It  was  thus 
that  Goethe,  by  a priori  thinking,  enunciated  the  doctrine  of  the 
metamorphosis  of  plants,  and  thus,  also,  that  Oken,  stumbling  on  a 
skull  amongst  the  Hartz  mountains,  exclaimed,  as  though  by  a sud- 
den flash  of  thought,  that  it  was  vertebrated ; but  certain  it  is,  that 
purely  rational  systems  of  physics  have  failed  to  give  any  solid  ad- 
vancement to  science,  and  that  they  could  not  even  have  been 
constructed,  without  the  knowledge  derived  from  those  who  have 
been  willing  to  tread  the  slow  but  certain  road  of  observation  and 
experiment.  The  healthy  tendency  of  idealism  is,  to  give  life  to 
nature,  by  showing  God  in  the  midst  of  his  works ; the  extreme  of 
this  tendency  is  pantheism — nature  absorbed  in  Deity.  Of  these 
two  different  tendencies,  the  former  is  now  manifesting  itself,  both 
in  England  and  some  other  countries,  gradually  widening  the 
bounds  of  science,  and  leading  to  its  more  recondite  researches ; 
the  latter  is  that  which  has  excited  so  much  attention  in  Germany, 
but  which  now  appears  to  have  passed  its  climax,  and  commenced 
its  decline. 

2.  But  we  must  now  leave  the  walks  of  science,  in  order  to 
seek  the  tendency  of  idealism,  in  the  more  practical  department 
of  legislation.  We  have  already  adverted  to  the  three  possible 
theories  of  government,  based  respectively  upon  the  three  funda- 
mental conceptions  of  the  human  mind.  Of  these  three  theories, 
all  the  systems  of  mere  expediency,  however  skilfully  they  may  be 
adapted  and  expressed,  are  at  once  rejected,  by  an  idealistic  phi- 
losophy, as  hollow  and  unsound.  Idealism  says,  Man  is  not  a mere 
animal,  seeking  the  satisfaction  of  his  instincts ; he  does  not  regard 
corporal  pleasure  as  the  sole  aim  of  his  existence  ; he  does  not  look 
upon  self-interest  as  the  only  rule  of  his  conduct,  nor  upon  physical 
force  as  the  only  motive  to  which  w’e  may  appeal  in  matter  of 
government.  On  the  contrary,  it  protests,  that  man  has  a moral 
nature,  cognizant  of  an  eternal  justice,  whose  laws  are  inviolable  ; 


712 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


it  asserts,  that  there  is  a supreme  ruler  of  the  world,  the  principles 
of  whose  government  are  sacred,  and  against  which  it  is  vain  for 
man  to  vent  his  nostrums  of  fancied  utility.  In  a word,  it  declares 
that  institutions  are  not  to  be  adjudged  right,  because  they  may 
appear  expedient,  but  that,  relying  upon  the  unerring  sense  of  jus- 
tice which  God  has  implanted  in  our  minds,  they  are  to  be  adjudged 
as  most  assuredly  expedient,  because  they  are  right.* 

That  the  idealistic  principles  of  legislation  are  gaining  ground 
in  the  present  day,  we  entertain  but  little  doubt.  Coleridge  (in  the 
“ Friend”)  was  one  of  the,  first  of  the  modern  idealistic  writers, 
who  showed  the  application  of  a reflective  philosophy  to  the  subject 
of  government ; and  nowhere,  perhaps,  do  we  find  the  medium 
between  expediency,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  vicious  employment 
of  reason,  as  the  source  of  political  institutions,  on  the  other,  more 
clearly  pointed  out,  than  in  the  first  four  chapters  of  his  section  on 
the  principles  of  political  knowledge.  Albeit  he  gave,  perhaps,  too 
wide  a scope  to  the  doctrine  of  expediency  in  his  politics,  yet  his 
entire  rejection  of  it  in  the  deeper  principles  of  morals,  (which  are 
at  the  basis  of  all  politics,)  and  the  power  with  which  he  contended 
for  moral  truth,  in  its  application  to  the  exigencies  of  society,  and 
the  wants  of  human  life — all  this  rendered  him  a worthy  pioneer 
in  the  pathway  of  political  reformation. 

In  speaking,  however,  of  the  politics  of  idealism,  who  does  not 
at  once  turn  to  the  erratic  and  versatile  genius  of  Carlyle  ? Let 
none  suppose,  that,  because  the  works  he  has  successively  presented 
to  the  public  contain  no  systematic  statement  of  political  princi- 
ples, therefore  there  are  no  specific  principles  to  be  gained  from 
them.  So  far  from  this,  the  philosophy  of  legislation  blazes  forth 
from  almost  every  page.  Nowhere,  perhaps,  are  the  profoundest 
wants  of  humanity,  in  its  social  state,  probed  with  a firmer  yet 
tenderer  hand — nowhere,  the  true  remedies  for  social  evil  more 
clearly  pointed  out.  In  saying  this,  we  do  not  render  our  unqual- 
ified assent  to  all  the  sentiments  he  has  brought  forward  on  this 
topic  ; — for  who  could  ever  do  so  without  almost  clothing  himself 
in  the  author’s  own  individuality? — ^but  we  mean  to  say,  that  he 
has  dived  down  to  those  deep,  and  too  often  hidden  sources,  at  the 
very  heart  of  human  nature,  from  which  all  sound  principles  of 
legislation  must  flow,  and  grasped  the  true  theory  of  human  society. 
If  it  be  asked,  in  what  respect,  and  by  what  means  he  has  done 

* It  is  needless,  perhaps,  to  explain,  that  we  refer  here  only  to  the  moral  grounds  of 
legislation  ; the  peculiar  adaptation  of  these  grounds  must,  after  all,  be  determined  ac- 
cording to  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 


TENDENCIES  OF  IDEALISM. 


713 


this ; I answer,  by  looking  upon  life  in  the  light  of  an  idealistic 
philosophy,  and  thus  realizing  the  fact,  that  men  are  held  together, 
not  by  motives  of  self-interest,  but  by  the  spiritual  laws  of  their 
common  nature. 

The  two  great  ideas,  of  Mind,  and  of  God — mind,  in  its  intel- 
lectual developments  and  moral  principles,  and  God,  in  his  relation 
to  the  world — lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  his  political  theories.  God 
is  regarded  as  the  source  of  all  order — man,  as  the  exemplar  of  God 
himself.  What  God  has  constituted  must  be  right  and  expedient ; 
and  to  know  what  God  wills,  with  reference  to  human  society,  we 
have  to  study  his  law,  in  the  moral  nature  impressed  upon  his  image 
below.  Strip  society  of  all  its  embellishments,  tear  away  all  its 
artificial  trappings,  let  the  conventional  and  the  unreal  depart, 
and  what  then  is  left  ? The  answer  is,  Man,  as  man — man,  with 
his  original  constitution — with  his  soul  and  his  body,  as  God  made 
them — with  his  divinity  alone  around  him.  Sensationalism  would 
have  us  neglect  this  original  constitution,  and  follow  mere  expe- 
diency as  our  guide.  Idealism  shows  us,  that  it  is  vain  to  make 
artificial  laws  to  rule  mankind,  while  the  very  laws  of  our  moral 
nature  are  violated  and  set  at  nought.  We  look  upon  the  political 
views  of  Carlyle  as  intensely  significant  of  the  tendency  of  the  pres- 
ent age.  Individual  though  they  be,  in  their  form,  yet  they  are 
echoing  the  thoughts  of  a thousand  minds,  and  the  feelings  of  a 
thousand  hearts.  It  is  clear,  that  the  reaction  now  experienced 
against  sensational  principles,  is  preparing  multitudes  to  enter  into 
spiritual  views  of  human  society,  and  though  such  views  may  sound 
strange  and  mysterious  at  present,  yet  they  will  assuredly  become, 
ere  long,  the  practical  truths,  by  which  man’s  whole  political  life 
must  be  regulated. 

Should  any  one  doubt  the  truth  of  this  anticipation,  then  let  him 
look  around  upon  all  the  chief  political  theories  of  the  present  age. 
Widely  different  as  these  may  be,  in  many  other  respects,  yet  they 
well-nigh  all  agree  in  rejecting  the  sensational  principle,  and  ap- 
pealing to  the  deeper  elements  of  our  nature.  Take  as  example, 
the  theory  of  Dr.  Arnold,  (a  man  who  was  as  little  infected  with 
the  prejudices,  and  who  as  fully  sympathized  with  the  spirit  of  the 
age,  as  any  great  thinker  of  his  time,)  and  however  Utopian  some 
may  pronounce  it  to  be,  yet  who  can  deny,  that  he  has  taken  many 
deep  and  truthful  views  of  social  life,  such  as  would  do  honor  to 
any  country,  and  to  any  period?  Take  as  another  example,  that 
of  the  modern  Oxford  politicians.  What  does  Mr.  Sewell  contend 


714 


MODERN  I’llILOSOPHY. 


for  with  his  church-supported  state  ? What,  but  a legislation,  that 
shall  apprehend  man  as  a rational,  a moral,  and  a religious  being, 
that  shall  govern  him  through  the  medium  of  his  faith  in  God,  as 
well  as  through  the  outward  penalties  of  human  law?  No  matter 
whether  his  theory  of  a Catholic  Church  be  right  or  wrong ; dis- 
miss, if  you  should  think  proper,  his  dogma  of  the  succession,  as 
being  the  mere  war-cry  of  a party,;  still  there  is  the  idea — there 
the  assertion,  that  nations  cannot  be  governed  by  utilitarianism ; 
that  all  law  flows  originally  from  God,  and  his  moral  creation  in 
the  soul  of  man. 

Look,  again,  at  the  principles  asserted  by  the  politicians  of  the 
so-called  “ Young  England”  school.  Listen,  for  example,  to  Mr. 
Gladstone,  in  his  eloquent  strictures  on  the  state-conscience  and 
the  state-personality,  and  see  how  firmly  he  asserts  it  to  be  the 
highest  duty  of  Government  to  evolve  the  social  life  of  man  by 
moral  and  religious  motives.  “ There  is,  indeed,  a doctrine,”  he 
remarks,  “ that  political  society  exists  only  for  material,  outward, 
and  mere  earthly  objects  : that  it  is  a contrivance  prompted  by 
necessity  for  the  defence  of  life  and  property,  through  the  estab- 
lishment of  peace  and  order ; that  it  is  a formula  for  producing  a 
maximum  of  individual  freedom,  by  an  apparent  sacrifice,  a small 
payment  beforehand  of  the  same  commodity  from  each  member  of 
the  community  to  the  State.  Here  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  decla- 
ration of  Burke,  that  the  age  of  economists,  sophists,  and  calcula- 
tors has  arrived.  Here  is  the  twin-sister  of  that  degraded  system 
of  ethics,  or  individual  morality ; the  injurious  legacy  of  Locke, 
which  received  its  full  popular  development  from  Paley,  and  was 
reduced  to  forms  of  greater  accuracy  by  Bentham : which,  in  logi- 
cal self-consistency,  sought  to  extirpate  the  very  notion  of  duty 
from  the  human  heart,  and  even  to  erase  its  name  from  language ; 
and  which  made  pleasure  and  pain  the  moral  poles  of  the  uni- 
verse.” 

All  these  phenomena,  and  many  other's  now  manifesting  them- 
selves in  the  political  literature  of  our  country,  as  we  regard  them, 
are  but  the  expansions  of  the  idealistic  spirit  of  the  age.  True, 
they  may  gather  church-principles,  and  other  principles  around 
them ; but  they  are  none  the  less  the  offspring  of  the  deep  convic- 
tion now  settling  in  all  thinking  minds,  that  neither  man  nor  so- 
ciety “can  live  by  bread  alone.”  To  what  point  these  different 
phenomena  may  lend,  it  is  not  easy  to  foresee.  We  may  securely 
hope,  however,  that  the  more  reflection,  the  more  humanity,  the 


TEXDEMCIES  OF  IDEALISM. 


715 


more  real  knowledge  of  the  human  mind,  in  its  secret  spring,  is 
thrown  into  the  political  principles  of  our  legislators,  the  less  there 
will  be  of  mere  party-seeking  and  party-subserviency ; and  the 
more  will  the  solemn  office  of  the  nation’s  rulers  become  too  fear- 
ful a responsibility,  to  allow  fixed  principles  to  be  shaken  by  indi- 
vidual interests. 

There  is  only  one  extreme  against  which  idealism  has  to  beware, 
and  that  is,  the  state  of  things  in  which  would-be  philosophers,  as- 
suming that  they  have  probed  the  human  mind  to  its  centre,  take 
it  upon  them  to  enunciate  fixed  political  axioms  as  the  offspring  of 
their  social  science — begin  to  exclaim  that  the  age  of  reason  is 
now  to  return,  and,  on  the  ground  of  their  owm  philosophic  infalli- 
bility, seek  to  overturn  all  the  ancient  landmarks  of  society.  Such 
theories  were  rife  throughout  Europe  during  the  stirring  age  of  the 
French  Revolution,  and  led  many  to  views  of  political  society  Ss 
shallow  as  they  were  Utopian.  This  extreme,  however,  being 
avoided,  we  can  augur  nothing  but  good  from  the  application  of  a 
rational  philosophy  to  the  exigencies  of  social  life. 

3.  It  now  only  remains  for  us,  in  this  section,  to  observe  the  in- 
fluence of  idealism  upon  the  religion  of  the  age.  It  has  been  al- 
ready shown  upon  a priori  grounds,  that,  under  the  reign  of  sen- 
sationalism, the  religious  life  must  become  cold  and  feeble ; and 
we  have  pointed  out  some  actual  facts  which  seem  to  bear  out  the 
conclusion.  The  natural  inference  is,  that  some  element  of  ideal- 
ism is  necessary  to  the  proper  expansion  of  theological  ideas  in  the 
human  mind.  In  strict  accordance  with  this  inference,  we  find, 
that,  in  a sensational  age,  the  grounds,  even  of  natural  religion, 
are  secretly  undermined,  as  was  eminently  the  case  during  the  in- 
fluence of,  the  French  materialism.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  by 
those  chiefly,  whose  philosophy  partakes  more  of  the  rational  or 
ideal,  that  these  grounds  have  been  fenced  and  defended. 

Writers,  for  example,  like  M‘Culloch  and  Whewell,  who  have 
applied  the  highest  scieiftific  knowledge  to  maintain  the  validity 
of  our  natural  religious  conceptions,  are,  philosophically  speaking, 
most  evidently  idealistic  in  their  tendency;  and  we  can  hai'dly  re- 
sist the  inference,  that  it  was  by  the  same  habit  of  mind,  which  led 
them  to  rise  above  the  sensationalism  so  common  to  physical  in- 
quirers, that  they  were  brought  to  gaze  with  such  intensity  upon 
the  conceptions  which  form  the  basis  of  man’s  natural  religion. 
The  one  set  of  thoughts  is,  indeed,  very  closely  connected  with 
the  other.  Science,  when  transcending  the  bounds  of  sense,  must 


716 


MODERN  PIlU.OSOrHY. 


soon  soar  upwards  to  God  ; and  the  right  being  once  admitted  to 
adduce  unseen  agencies  from  the  visible  phenomena  around  us, 
there  will  soon  follow,  from  the  infinite  design  displayed  in  the 
universe,  the  deep  conviction  of  an  infinite  designer. 

The  present  influence  of  idealism,  however,  on  this  department 
of  theology,  not  only  tends  to  place  the  ordinary  a posteriori  argu- 
ment in  a clear  and  commanding  light,  but  it  has  added  to  this  the 
force  of  considerations,  which  are  derived  from  the  constitution 
and  from  the  instinctive  conceptions  of  the  human  mind.  Lord 
Brougham,  in  his  “ Preliminary  Discourse,”  has  dwelt  excellently 
upon  this  part  of  the  argument,  in  so  far  as  the  constitution  of  the 
mind  is  concerned  ; drawing  from  it  proofs  of  design  equally  strong 
with  any  which  could  be  selected  from  the  external  world.  But, 
in  addition  even  to  this,  there  are  some  few  writers,  chiefly  those 
ifnbued  with  German  philosophy,  who  have  begun  to  make  power- 
ful use  of  the  argument  derived  from  owx  fundamental  conceptions. 
This  method  of  proof  certainly  appears,  to  those  unaccustomed  to 
abstract  thinking,  somewhat  obscure  and  inconclusive  ; but  it  has 
the  merit  of  becoming  more  forcible  the  more  it  is  inwardly  real- 
ized ; and  we  much  doubt  whether  the  tone  of  metaphysical  think- 
ing in  our  own  country  will  not,  ere  long,  render  an  appeal  to 
these  conceptions  the  most  powerful,  as  also  the  most  popular 
proof  of  the  foundation-principles  of  natural  theology.  Such  it 
has  long  become  among  the  German  divines ; such,  we  believe,  it 
will  become  everywhere  else,  when  minds  are  no  longer  so  sen- 
sualized, that  its  cogency  is  obscured  and  its  moral  strength  inval- 
idated. As  we  can  imagine  an  angel  in  heaven  to  believe  in  God 
from  its  own  deep  intuition  of  his  existence,  so  will  men  attain  a 
similar  intuitive  persuasion,  in  proportion  as  they  raise  themselves 
above  the  material  into  the  region  of  the  spiritual  and  the  divine. 

But  it  is  not  merely  upon  the  grounds  of  natural  religion  that 
idealism  exerts  its  influence ; we  may  trace  its  tendencies  with 
equal  clearness  in  the  effects  which  it  produces  upon  the  varied 
phases  of  the  religious  life  actually  existing  among  different  sec- 
tions of  the  Christian  Church.  It  is  a fact  universally  allowed, 
that  there  has  been  a great  increase  of  spiritual  vigor  infused  during 
the  last  ten  years  into  the  English  Church.  The  cold,  dry,  lifeless 
formality,  so  common  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago,  has  been  broken 
in  upon  by  some  living  operating  religious  ideas.  Whether  those 
ideas  are  right  or  wrong,  in  a theological  point  of  view,  is  another 
question — still,  there  they  are,  touching  the  deeper  springs  of  hu- 


TE^'DENCIE3  OF  I0EAM3M. 


717 


man  nature,  and  rousing  hundreds  at  the  present  naoment  to  thought 
and  emotion.  Whence,  then,  have  these  movements  originated  ? 
Not  from  the  people — not  from  direct  Christian  effort — nothing  of 
the  kind  : they  have  originated  in  a few  minds,  deeply  imbued  with 
an  ancient,  and,  it  may  be,  a mystical  philosophy.  These  mind? 
have  revolted  from  a round  of  cold  and  stiff  morality ; they  have 
abjured  sensationalism  in  metaphysics  and  in  ethics  ; they  have  scat- 
tered their  idealism,  clothed  in  different  garbs,  on  every  side ; and, 
as  a consequence  of  this,  they  have  roused  the  minds  of  thousands 
to  a new  religious  life.  True,  it  may  be  a religious  life  that  com- 
bines much  mysticism  in  its  forms  and  its  sentiments  ; but  it  is  no 
less  the  offspring  of  idealism,  in  its  reaction  against  a mechanical 
age. 

Look  again  to  that  community  which,  as  the  professed  nursling 
of  Priestley  and  Belsham,  was  formerly  the  true  representative  of 
a sensational  theology.  However  unwilling  some  may  be  to  admit 
the  fact,  yet  it  cannot  be  concealed  that  an  idealistic  philosophy, 
the  natural  antagonist  of  the  Hartleian  and  all  similar  principles, 
has  invaded  their  theological  system,  and  is  rapidly  working  a 
marked  change  in  their  whole  religious  life.  Whether  this  change 
will  lead  to  a fresh  expansion  of  the  elements  of  Christian  faith, 
whether  to  pantheistic  mysticism,  or  whether  to  religious  rational- 
ism, properly  so  called,  it  yet  remains  to  be  seen ; certain  it  is,  that 
the  sensational  point  of  view  must  give  way  to  something  more 
spiritual,  of  whatever  hue  its  spiritualism  may  be. 

If  we  pass  over  from  England  to  France,  there  we  have  a most 
instructive  example  of  the  working  of  speculative  philosophy  upon 
the  religious  life  of  a people.  The  close  of  the  Revolution  found 
France  almost  without  a I'eligion  at  all.  Direct  efforts  to  awaken 
religious  faith  seemed  altogether  unavailing.  The  Catholic  and 
Protestant  Churches  were  alike  powerless  to  arouse  the  mass  of  the 
people  from  their  lethargy  and  unbelief.  Just  at  this  point  the 
eclectic  philosophy  came  to  their  aid,  and  under  its  influence,  the 
belief  in  God  and  immortality  is  again  spreading  among  the  people. 
We  do  not  say  that  the  religion  of  the  eclectic  philosophers  is  by 
any  means  a perfect  one,  or  that  it  contains  in  it  anything  approach- 
ing to  the  whole  of  the  elements  of  Christianity ; but  still  it  holds 
up  a God  to  be  worshipped,  an  immortality  to  be  secured,  a soul  to 
be  inspired;  and  where  these  thoughts  are  impressed,  thei’e  can- 
not be  an  entire  indifference  to  religious  truth  and  religious  duty. 
Admit  even  that  there  are  doctrines  maintained  by  the  eclectics 


718 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


wliich  would  disarm  inspiration  of  its  glory,  that  would  destroy 
everything  peculiar  to  the  Christian  scheme,  that  would  place 
Christianity  itself  down  under  the  same  category  with  the  religions 
of  mere  human  invention  ; still  this  does  not  prevent  the  great  ideas 
which  they  embody  froro  exerting  an  influence  upon  the  mind,  and 
preparing  it  for  better  things.  It  may,  perhaps,  sound  harsh  in 
some  ears,  but  we  firmly  believe  that  the  spiritual  philosophy  of 
France  has  done  more  to  bring  back  the  people  of  that  country  to 
a sense  of  religious  obligation,  than  all  the  direct  eflbrts  of  Christian 
zeal  combined.  Such  efforts  are  for  the  most  part  useless,  where 
the  conscience  has  become  seared ; where  the  belief  in  God  has 
died  out;  where  the  hope  of  immortality  has  sunk  into  oblivion. 
Restore  these  thoughts  to  the  people,  and  Christian  effort  will  soon 
tell  upon  them  with  redoubled  force. 

Whilst  idealism  has  been  working  beneficially  for  the  religion  of 
France,  in  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  its  more  extreme  and  daring 
features  have  unhappily  developed  themselves,  in  connection  with 
the  religious  life  of  that  country.  In  our  section  on  the  German 
Idealism,  we  have  already  shown  the  vicious  excess  to  which  the 
rationalistic  speculations  of  the  present  age  have  been  carried. 
Neglecting  that  vast  and  important  element  of  our  knowledge, 
which  is  derived  from  empirical  observation,  the  philosophers  of 
that  school  have  endeavored  to  lay  down  their  a priori  axioms,  and 
then  to  draw  after  them  in  one  immense  chain  of  logical  sequence 
the  whole  mass  of  human  learning,  whether  of  a moral  or  a demon- 
strative character.  They  have  not  been  willing  to  tolerate  anything 
whatever  that  is  merely  experimental,  or  even  that  includes  an  in- 
ductive process.  Whether  it  be  politics,  art,  natural  science,  or 
even  history  itself,  all  must  be  deduced  from  rational  principles, 
and  built  up  by  deductive  reasoning  ; so  that  we  are  even  told  what 
the  past  state  of  the  world  must  have  been,  and  what  logically  it 
must  hereafter  be. 

This,  then,  being  the  spirit  of  their  philosophy,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  that  religion  should  be  drawn  into  the  same  stream 
of  logical  inference,  and  pared  down  into  perfect  consistency 
with  it ; nor  should  it  be  an  object  of  surprise  that  they  have  ap- 
proached Christianity  itself  in  the  same  spirit  with  which  they, 
have  approached  everything  else.  Intolerant  of  moral  evidence, 
of  experience,  of  testimony,  they  have  swept  away  indiscrim- 
inately, in  one  torrent  of  logical  argumentation,  the  historical,  the 
inspired,  the  miraculous ; that  is,  the  whole  objective  element  of 


TENDENCIES  OF  IDEALISM. 


719 


Christianity ; and  have  left  nothing  behind  to  supply  their  place, 
except  the  a priori  religious  conceptions  of  the  human  mind. 

To  see  the  folly  of  this  procedure,  as  applied  to  religion,  vfe, 
only  have  to  observe  it  in  the  case  of  other  branches  of  human 
knowledge.  Imagine  all  the  labors  of  the  historian  discarded,  and 
history  itself  only  studied  from  the  page  of  some  speculative  the- 
orist ; imagine  the  experience  of  the  statesman  set  at  nought,  and 
a nation  of  living  men,  with  all  their  clashing  interests,  governed 
by  some  logical  hypothesis ; imagine  the  experiments  of  the  nat- 
ural philosopher  all  neglected,  and  the  phenomena  of  the  universe 
deduced  from  rationalistic  grounds  alone ; and  we  need  hardly  say 
that  these  glorious  spheres  of  mental  investigation  would  at  once 
sink  down  into  deserved  contempt.  And  why  would  this  be  ? 
Not  assuredly  because  there  are  no  a priori  principles  involved  in 
these  sciences,  not  because  there  is  no  room  for  deductive  reason- 
ing in  them,  not  because  they  are  exclusively  experimental ; no, 
but  because  there  is  an  element  of  fact  in  them  all,  which  must  be 
observed  and  employed,  before  a firm  platform  is  gained  on  which 
logical  reasoning  can  rest. 

So  it  is  also  in  Christianity.  While  bare  natural  religion  is  a 
question  of  reason,  Christianity  is  a question  of  facts.  Leave  out 
those  facts,  rest  the  whole  system  upon  rational  axioms  or  deduc- 
tive processes,  and  Christianity,  too,  like  the  other  branches  we 
have  mentioned,  will  sink  down  to  a mere  visionary  and  hypothet- 
ical system,  proving  at  the  very  best  but  an  excrescence  and  a 
useless  appendage  to  natural  theology. 

And  then,  at  length,  what  will  natural  theology  itself  become 
under  the  guidance  of  the  same  philosophy?  Ask  the  extreme 
idealists  of  the  present  day,  and  they  will  tell  you  that  God  is  one 
with  the  universe  itself.  The  glorious  conception  of  the  great 
Jehovah,  which  we  derive  from  the  display  of  his  wisdom,  power, 
and  love,  in  the  creation  without,  the  constitution  of  our  minds 
within,  and  the  intuition  of  our  rational  and  moral  nature,  soon 
sinks  down  into  a vague  personification  of  the  human  conscious- 
ness. The  final  result  of  such  a theology  is,  that  the  divine  is 
dragged  down  to  a level  with  the  human,  instead  of  the  human 
being  raised  up  (as  it  is  by  Christianity)  to  the  divine.  Thus, 
then,  the  extremes  of  sensationalism  and  idealism  at  length  meet. 
The  one  says  that  God  is  the  universe,  the  other  that  the  universe 
is  God.  Diderot  and  Strauss  can  here  shake  hands,  and  alike  re- 
joice in  the  impious  purpose  of  sinking  the  personality  of  the  Deity 


720 


MODERN  nUDOSOPHY. 


into  an  abstraction,  which  the  holy  cannot  love,  and  which  the 
wicked  need  not  fear.  Such  is  the  extreme  of  idealism  in  its  in- 
fluence upon  Christian  theology,  an  extreme  which  contravenes 
and  destroys  all  the  good  which  at  first  it  promised  to  effect.  The 
German  religious  rationalism,  however,  it  is  pretty  evident,  has 
already  passed  its  climax ; the  battle  has  begun  to  grow  faint,  and 
the  first  symptoms  of  decline  have  appeared.  When  they  have 
begun  to  find  repose,  it  is  not  altogether  improbable  that  we  may 
be  in  the  heat  of  contest.  That  England,  as  well  as  Germany, 
must  pass  through  the  ordeal  of  I’eligious  rationalism,  we  regard 
as  a matter  of  more  than  probability.  But,  confident  in  the  ul- 
timate victory  of  truth,  we  shall  rejoice  in  the  conflict  if  it  break 
away  the  shackles  which  still  rob  the  conscience  of  its  full  and 
righteous  freedom,  and  leave  us  a religion  of  manly  vigor,  that  re- 
quires no  arm  to  support  it  but  that  of  its  own  undying  energy. 

Sect.  III. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Scepticism. 

We  have  pointed  out,  in  a former  chapter,  three  subordinate 
species  of  scepticism,  namely,  the  scepticism  of  authority,  the 
scepticism  of  ignorance,  and  absolute  scepticism.  The  first  of 
these,  moreover,  we  have  shown  to  prevail  chiefly  in  England ; 
the  first  and  second  in  France  ; the  third  (though  to  a small  ex- 
tent) in  Germany.  In  looking  upon  the  features  of  the  present 
age  as  a whole,  we  should  by  no  means  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  marked  by  any  peculiar  tendencies  to  scepticism  of  either 
of  these  descriptions.  So  far  from  that,  we  think  that  the  scep- 
tical spirit  which  developed  itself  so  largely  during  the  last  cen- 
tury, has  during  the  present  become  visibly  feebler ; so  that  the 
feeling  of  the  age,  instead  of  tending  to  unbelief,  is  rather  seeking 
after  a faith  of  a more  fixed  and  comprehensive  kind. 

In  place  of  its  being  considered  the  mark  of  a manly  and  pen- 
etrating mind  to  doubt  what  the  rest  of  mankind  receive  as  truth, 
it  is  now  attributed  more  accurately  to  ignorance,  or  to  pedantry. 
The  common  sense  of  the  world  has  pronounced  scepticism  to  be 
a reproach.  Our  readers  will,  of  course,  bear  in  mind  that  we  are 
not  now  referring  particularly  to  religious  scepticism,  but  to  the 
spirit  of  unbelief,  or  the  habit  of  resisting  evidence  in  whatsoever 
department  it  may  be.  A certain  degree  of  incredulity,  indeed,  is 
manifestly  advantageous  to  the  interests  of  truth,  inasmuch  as  i* 


TENDENCIES  OF  SCEPTICISM. 


721 


ever  operates  as  a check  upon  false  theories  ; but  to  carry  it  out 
in  cases  where  evidence  is  clear,  or  to  require  demonstration  when 
a cumulative  proof  only  can  be  attained,  is  now  pretty  generally 
felt  to  be  a perversion  of  our  natural  faculties,  and  a manifestation 
of  folly  altogether  beneath  the  dignity  of  a wise  man.  We  must 
attempt  however,  to  gather  up  the  phenomena  which  scepticism 
is  now  displaying  in  connection  with  the  departments  of  science, 
legislation,  and  religion.  In  this  way  we  shall  be  able  better  to 
see  its  present  tendencies. 

And,  first,  within  the  precincts  of  science,  the  influence  of  scep- 
ticism can  now  rarely  enter.  Time,  indeed,  was,  when  the  philos- 
opher not  only  had  to  encounter  unbelief,  but  persecution  as  well. 
The  day,  however,  has  now  gone  by  when  mankind  could  per- 
suade themselves  that  the  sun  moved  round  the  earth,  because 
some  mitred  head  pronounced  it  to  be  so.  Rome  no  longer  sways 
the  opinions  of  the  learned,  even  within  its  own  communion ; the 
Vatican  pretends  not  to  supreme  authority  in  philosophy  ; nor  does 
the  college  of  Cardinals  assume  the  functions  of  a scientific  insti- 
tution. All  scepticism  of  this  palpable  character  has  been  swept 
away  by  the  advancing  lustre  of  demonstrative  truth ; and  science 
now  marches  forward  compai'atively  free  from  such  obstructions 

The  only  instance  in  which  scientific  truth  now  meets  with  op- 
position is,  when  it  runs  contrary  to  some  religious  theory,  and 
enlists  that  strongest  of  passions,  I mean,  theological  animosity, 
against  it.  Geology  has  had  to  contend  with  a scepticism  of  this 
nature,  by  which  many  of  its  leading  facts,  and  those,  too,  resting 
upon  an  evidence  as  palpable  as  the  hunaan  reason  could  well  re- 
quire, have  been  rejected  on  the  ground  of  their  contradiction  to 
some  previous  hypothesis.  The  motives  which  have  given  birth  to 
such  an  exhibition  of  authoritative  scepticism,  we  do  not  venture 
to  impugn.  They  may  have  been  very  pure  and  very  I’everential ; 
but  quite  assured  are  we  that  they  have  been  very  unwise.  It 
never  seems  to  be  imagined  by  those  who  reject  evidence  of  a 
convincing  nature,  on  the  ground  of  some  prejudication  of  the 
matter  in  hand,  that  their  own  fondest  and  most  sacred  beliefs  rest 
upon  evidence  of  the  very  same  kind. 

I will  suppose,  for  example,  that  a man  rejects  the  antiquity  of 
the  crust  of  the  earth,  on  the  plea  (though  a false  one)  that  it  con- 
tradicts the  Mosaic  cosmogony.  On  what  ground,  we  would  ask, 
does  he  accept  and  hold  so  firmly  the  truth  of  the  Pentateuch  ? 
His  faith  in  it  must  rest  primarily  upon  testimony  borne  to  certain 

46 


722 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


facts,  and  then  be  confirmed  by  conclusions,  drawn  by  processes  of 
reasoning,  from  the  facts  presented.  But  this  is  precisely  the  evi- 
dence which  the  geologist  brings  to  establish  the  principles  he  as- 
serts. He  presents,  first  of  a\\,  facts  of  which  he  himself  and  others 
have  been  eye-witnesses  ; from  these  facts  he  draws,  with  great 
caution,  certain  conclusions ; and  then,  on  the  ground  of  the  truth 
of  the  testimony,  and  the  validity  of  the  reasoning  which  builds 
itself  upon  it,  he  summons  the  belief  of  mankind.  On  what  plea, 
then,  does  any  man  admit  the  evidence  in  the  one  case,  and  reject 
it  in  the  other  ; or,  if  he  repudiates  the  conclusion  of  the  geologist, 
how  can  he  complain  if  another  repudiates  that  of  the  theologian  ? 
We  see  not  that  there  is  any  superior  clearness  and  certainty  either 
with  regard  to  the  facts  themselves  or  the  reasoning  based  upon 
them,  in  the  first  case  than  there  is  in  the  second.  To  deny  evi- 
dence blindly  is  always  a dangerous  thing  to  venture  upon ; for  the 
right  of  denial  admitted  in  one  case  may  soon  be  applied  to  an- 
other ; and  the  mistaken  zeal  of  saving  a theological  truth  at  the 
expense  of  a philosophical  one,  may  end  in  involving  both  in  a 
common  doubt  or  destruction.  Where  unquestionable  evidence 
asserts  two  facts  apparently  contradictory,  we  must  await  a fresh 
apocalypse,  natural  or  divine,  to  point  out  their  reconciliation. 
Opposition  to  scientific  conclusions,  however,  on  religious  grounds, 
is  fast  wearing  away ; men  are  beginning  to  see  that  the  same  evi- 
dence cannot  be  regarded  as  a shadow  in  one  instance,  and  a sub- 
-stance  in  the  other. 

Secondly,  in  the  department  of  legislation,  the  scepticism  of  au- 
thority has  also  exercised  some  influence  during  the  present  cen- 
tury, tending  in  every  instance  to  the  maintenance  of  the  principles 
of  absolutism.  It  can  hardly  be  wondered  at,  that  after  all  the 
Utopian  theories  of  government,  which  France  witnessed  as  the 
offspring  of  the  Revolution,  a reaction  should  take  place,  and  all 
faith  in  human  legislation  be  shaken.  This  reaction  has  led  some 
in  recent  times  to  deny  that  the  capacity  of  realizing  any  sound 
principles  of  legislation  exists  in  human  nature,  and  has  brought 
them  to  rest  the  whole  fabric  of  political  power  upon  the  authority 
of  God,  as  expressed  through  his  Church.  If  we  would  see,  there- 
fore,  the  natural  tendency  of  scepticism  as  it  regards  the  theory 
of  legislation,  we  shall  find  it  most  clearly  exhibited  in  the  present 
absolutists  of  France,  of  whom  we  have  already  furnished  some 
account  in  a previous  chapter. 

The  reason  why  scepticism  should  result  in  such  a system,  it  is 


TENDENCIES  IN  FRANCE. 


723 


not  difficult  to  account  for.  To  live  without  government  at  all, 
every  man  would  admit  and  feel  to  be  an  incalculable  evil ; when, 
therefore,  scepticism  undermines  the  whole  superstructure  of  polit- 
ical science,  the  only  resource  left  is  to  take  refuge  in  some  divine 
command,  and  so  to  amplify  the  power  of  the  keys  as  to  embrace 
within  it  the  whole  authority  both  of  Church  and  State. 

The  very  same  tendency,  which  we  have  seen  developing  itself 
in  the  principles  of  absolutism  in  France,  has  begun  to  prevail,  to 
a certain  extent,  in  England.  Many  hints  have  been  thrown  out, 
respecting  the  uncertainty  of  all  political  principles  not  based  upon 
the  authority  of  revelation.  These  hints,  coupled  with  a lofty 
assumption  of  ecclesiastical  power,  have  beti’ayed  a secret  desire  in 
the  minds  of  some  to  reinstate  a spiritual  despotism  throughout  the 
country.  That  this  may  never  take  place  is  devoutly  to  be  hoped 
for.  Experience  sufficiently  attests  that  national  greatness  and 
national  prosperity  can  only  result  from  carrying  out  those  great 
principles  of  government,  by  which  the  interests  of  the  whole  peo- 
ple are  properly  balanced,  regulated,  and  watched  over.  When 
power  and  property  come  irresponsibly  into  the  hands  of  a class, 
to  the  degradation  of  the  rest  of  the  community,  the  violated 
moral  laws  will  soon  revenge  their  own  unjust  infringement. 

With  a spiritual  despotism  this  is  pre-eminently  the  case.  How- 
ever plausible  it  may  seem  in  theory,  to  refer  human  power  to  the 
power  of  God  as  its  source ; however  excellent  to  put  the  govern- 
ment of  the  country  into  the  hands  of  the  professed  guardians  of 
religious  truth,  and  intrust  the  chief  authority  to  those  who  have  to 
deal  with  the  most  potent  influences  of  the  human  soul ; yet  the 
history  of  the  past  sufficiently  proves,  that  of  all  despotisms,  a spir- 
itual despotism  is  the  worst ; that  of  all  the  tyranny  under  which 
the  world  has  groaned,  none  is  so  fearful  as  that  which,  not  con- 
tent with  holding  the  body  in  subjection,  binds  the  very  soul  in  the 
adamantine  chains  of  superstitious  fear.  The  sceptic  in  legisla- 
tion, however,  may  become  a democrat  as  well  as  an  absolutist : 
he  may  break  down  all  the  established  principles  of  government 
and  head  a lawless  mob  ; or  he  may  set  up  an  irresponsible  power, 
in  the  form  of  a spiritual  tyranny.  But  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the 
other,  the  distrust  of  rational  political  power  leads  alike  to  the  most 
bitter  consequences  of  anarchy  and  confusion. 

To  conclude  this  section,  we  must  notice,  thirdly,  the  tendencies 
of  scepticism  in  connection  with  religion.  By  scepticism  gener- 
ally. we  mean  the  habit  of  distrusting  evidence ; this  is  the  uni- 


724 


Mon?;KN  rnn.osorHY. 


versal  basis  from  which  all  the  various  forms  of  it  arise.  Distrust 
of  evidence  originates  in  various  ways;  most  frequently,  perhaps, 
in  the  following: — The  confiding,  unwavering,  all-embracing  faith 
of  childhood  is  found,  as  life  advances,  to  be  partly  deceptive : 
many  instances  occur  in  which  its  confidence  is  misplaced ; and 
then  the  spirit  of  doubt  begins  to  operate  upon  the  mind,  and  to 
darken  the  bright  atmosphere  in  which  it  first  lived.  Hence  our 
faith  in  evidence  sensibly  declines  ; more  especially  in  that  kind  of 
evidence  which  has  been  found  to  lead  the -mind  astray. 

Now,  all  evidence  is  generically  of  two  kinds — it  is  either  subjec- 
tive or  objective ; it  either  comes  from  the  soul  within  or  from  the 
world  without ; in  other  words,  it  is  either  the  evidence  of  our  own 
faculties  or  that  of  testimony.*  If,  on  the  one  side,  our  own  facul- 
ties have  led  us  astray  by  wrong  conclusions,  we  are  apt  to  have 
our  faith  shaken  in  their  validity ; or  if,  on  the  other  hand,  men 
have  proved  false  or  mistaken  to  us  in  their  testimony,  then  we  are 
apt  to  distrust  testimony  at  large.  This  aptitude,  whether  it  refer 
to  the  evidence  of  our  faculties,  or  to  that  of  our  fellow-men,  when 
strengthened  and  developed  in  the  mind,  leads  to  what  we  term 
scepticism. 

Our  present  inquiry,  then,  is  simply  this,  “What  will  be  the 
natural  effect  of  distrusting  evidence  upon  man’s  religious  life  ?” 
The  effect,  it  is  manifest  at  first  sight,  will  be  very  different  accord- 
ing to  what  kind  of  evidence  is  received  or  what  rejected.  If 
both  kinds  are  rejected,  then  the  scepticism  is  universal,  involving 
all  human  knowledge  in  one  common  destruction  ; if  the  evidence 
of  our  reasoning  faculties  is  rejected,  then  revealed  theology  may 
still  flourish,  but  with  the  distrust  of  all  philosophical  truth ; or, 
lastly,  if  the  evidence  of  testimony  generally  is  doubted,  then 
natural  theology  may  live,  but  Christianity,  historically  viewed,  wall 
die.  According  to  this  deduction,  therefore,  the  tendencies  of  scep- 
ticisn),  as  it  regards  Christianity,  are  threefold.  Either,  first,  it 
may  attack  and  stifle  all  religious  belief ; or,  secondly,  it  may  admit 
the  historical  element  (as  a revelation  resting  upon  testimony), 
while  it  denies  the  validity  of  the  human  faculties ; or,  thirdly,  it 
may  allow  a natural  religion,  grounded  on  rationalistic  principles, 
hut  reject  the  testimony  which  supports  the  truth  of  a revelation. 

Of  these  tendencies,  the  two  last  are  abundantly  exhibited  in  the 
present  day.  In  England,  a distrust  and  contempt  for  reason  pre- 

♦ Under  the  evidence  of  our  faculties  is  included  that  of  the  senses  and  personal  ex- 
perience. 


TENDENCIES  OF  SCEPTICISM. 


725 


vails  amongst  religious  circles  to  a wide  extent : many  Christians 
think  it  almost  a matter  of  duty  to  decry  the  human  faculties  as 
poor,  mean,  and  almost  worthless ; and  thus  seek  to  exalt  piety  at 
the  expense  of  intelligence.  Delusive  hope  ! Is  not  Christianity 
itself  a matter  of  intelligence  ? Must  not  its  claims  to  authority 
be  weighed  by  the  human  reason  ? Must  not  intelligence  develop 
the  germ  of  truth  given  us  in  the  word,  to  a beautiful  and  compre- 
hensive system  to  be  realized  in  the  world  ? The  ultimate  effect  of 
this  species  of  scepticism  can  be  nothing  else  than  to  strip  religion 
of  its  energy,  to  turn  the  power  of  intelligent  faith  into  a blind 
attachment  to  a creed ; and  amidst  all  its  zeal  for  revealed  truth, 
to  undermine  secretly  the  very  pedestal  on  w’hich  in  peaceful 
security  it  reposes.  The  very  same  sceptical  tendency  is,  at  this 
moment,  displaying  similar  features  in  France.  What  else  is  the 
storm,  which  is  now  raging  against  the  philosophical  instruction 
afforded  at  the  universities  of  that  country  ? And  what  could 
show  more  plainly  than  this,  that  the  scepticism  of  authority,  if 
allowed  to  have  its  full  sway,  would  not  hesitate  to  hurl  to  the 
ground  everything  that  could  possibly  interfere  with  the  blind  cre- 
dulity, which  in  matters  of  testimony  it  seeks  to  inculcate  ? How 
long  this  contempt  for  reason  may  continue,  it  is  difficult  to  say  ; 
in  our  own  country  we  believe  it  to  be  on  the  decrease ; and  from 
its  final  disappearance  we  look,  not  for  any  danger  to  Christianity, 
but  for  a fresh  vigor  to  infuse  itself  into  the  popular  religion  of  the 
age. 

The  third  tendency  of  scepticism,  that  which  assumes  the  form 
of  a distrust  for  testimony,  is  far  more  widely  extended  in  Germany 
than  it  is  in  our  own  country.  The  validity  of  reason  is  there  sel- 
dom denied  ; in  many  instances,  indeed,  its  province  is  made  far 
too  extensive,  so  that  the  historical  element  of  Christianity  is  en- 
tirely absorbed  in  the  rational.  Such  is  the  real  nature  of  Strauss’s 
hypothesis,  of  w'hich  we  hear  so  much  in  the  present  day.  The 
testimony  upon  which  the  historical  authenticity  of  the  Gospels 
rests,  is  there,  by  a combination  of  ingenious  artifices,  weakened 
and  depreciated,  the  most  competent  witnesses  are  passed  over  as 
not  strictly  trustworthy,  the  outward  fact  is  made  more  and  more 
symbolical  of  moral  sentiment,  until,  at  length,  the  history  is  all 
transformed  into  mythology,  and  the  moral  element  left,  as  the  sole 
content  of  the  written  word. 

Of  the  two  phases  of  scepticism  we  have  just  described,  we 
believe  the  one  to  be  in  the  end  equally  injurious  with  the  other. 


726 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


Distrust  in  one  kind  of  testimony  may  very  easily  produce  distrust 
in  another  kind  ; so  that  either  phase  may  prove  one  stepping-stone 
to  that  universal  unbelief,  v'hich  involves  all  human  knowledge  in 
doubt  and  confusion.  The  only  method  by  which  religion  can 
attain  its  full  bloom  in  any  mind,  is  by  an  intelligent  confidence, 
both  in  the  validity  of  our  faculties  and  the  testimony  of  the  past. 
The  one  must  lay  the  foundation — the  other  must  erect  the  super- 
structure of  the  religious  life. 


Sect.  IV. — On  the  Tendencies  of  Modern  Mysticism. 

Mysticism,  viewed  simply  in  its  principle,  is  built  upon  a true 
idea,  namely,  that  there  is  in  human  nature  a primitive  faith  which 
precedes  and  transcends  reason.  This  faith,  it  is  true,  has  been 
termed  by  Cousin  the  spontaneous  effort  of  reason,  and  is  thus 
identified  with  the  other  operations  of  our  rational  nature ; but  still 
the  fact  remains,  that  there  is  a truth-organ  within  the  human  soul, 
which  leads  us  to  certain  beliefs,  long  before  they  can  be  verified 
by  any  logical  or  philosophical  deduction. 

Such  an  intuitive  or  spontaneous  perception  of  truth  frequently 
accompanies  the  exercise  of  the  feelings  and  affections  of  our  na- 
ture. The  moral  and  social  feelings,  for  example,  necessarily  in- 
volve some  conceptions  respecting  human  duty  and  human  destiny, 
in  which  we  may  place  confidence  quite  irrespective  of  the  deduc- 
tions of  reason.  In  like  manner,  the  aesthetic  and  religious  emo- 
tions lead  us  to  the  contemplation  of  an  infinite  beauty,  perfection, 
wisdom,  and  goodness,  long  ere  reason  has  begun  to  construct 
her  argument  for  the  being  of  a God.  To  a certain  extent,  then, 
we  may  put  faith  in  the  feelings,  we  may  regard  them  as  primitive 
witnesses  for  truth,  in  which  we  can  repose  confidence  as  long  as 
their  voice  comes  to  us  with  clear  and  distinct  articulation.  On 
this  ground  it  is,  then,  that  mysticism  professes  to  build ; and  it  is 
the  element  of  truth  which  it  thus  embodies,  that  has  given  it  all 
its  strength. 

But  whilst  this  is  the  case,  there  is  great  danger  lest  the  authority 
of  our  feelings  should  be  made  too  extensive,  so  that  we  should  be 
led  to  mistake  mere  evanescent  impressions  for  sober  truths,  and 
elevate  the  inspiration  of  the  emotions  altogether  above  the  conclu- 
sions of  reason.  In  fact,  the  sphere  of  knowledge  in  which  we  can 
trust  these  spontaneous  impulses,  is  very  confined  ; over  the  greater 


TENDENCIES  OF  MYSTICISM. 


727 


part  of  the  domains  of  truth,  the  perceptive  and  the  reasoning 
faculties  must  necessarily  be  predominant.  Most  of  the  branches 
of  human  science  have  to  be  pursued  simply  with  a steady  and 
logical  precision ; so  that  in  their  case  the  influence  of  feeling  can 
do  little  else  than  produce  error  and  confusion  ; in  other  words,  can 
lead  only  to  a false  and  bewildering  mysticism. 

To  verify  the  truth  of  these  remarks,  we  have  only  to  follow  the 
same  course  which  we  have  pursued  with  reference  to  the  other 
three  systems ; that  is,  to  observe  the  influence  of  mysticism  upon 
some  of  the  principal  departments  of  human  investigation.  First, 
with  regard  to  Science,  it  might  seem  difficult  to  see  where  there 
could  be  any  room  for  mysticism  to  operate  in  the  case  of  investi- 
gations, which  are  so  precise  and  definite  in  their  character.  It 
must  not  be  overlooked,  however,  that  science  has  its  higher  as 
well  as  its  lower  movement.  The  lower  physics,  those  which  refer 
simply  to  the  classification  of  obvious  phenomena,  can  hardly  be 
subjected  to  any  mystifying  process  ; but  the  higher  physics,  those 
which  tread  upon  the  verge  of  ontology,  and  theorize  upon  the 
more  recondite  causes  operating  in  nature,  afford  abundant  mate- 
rial for  the  development  of  some  of  the  most  remarkable  phenom- 
ena of  mysticism. 

Schelling,  for  example,  although  he  began  as  an  idealist,  yet  has 
introduced  into  his  later  productions  a large  element  of  mysticism ; 
attempting,  as  he  does,  to  give  a theosophic  view  of  nature  in  all 
her  varied  phenomena.  He  proposes  to  show  that  nature  is  homo- 
geneous with  mind  ; that  it  is,  strictly  speaking,  the  self-develop- 
ment of  Deity ; that,  in  other  words,  it  is  the  infinite  objectifying 
itself  in  the  finite.  On  this  principle  he  enters  into  various  expli- 
cations of  attraction,  gravitation,  light,  heat,  magnetism,  elec- 
tricity, &c.,  carrying  on  his  theories  into  the  different  regions  of 
creation,  so  as  at  length  to  afford  a connected  deduction  of  all  the 
phenomena  of  organic  and  inorganic  existence. 

These  theosophic  views  have  been  further  developed  by  the 
pupils  and  followers  of  Schelling.  Schubert  has  written  the  “ His- 
tory of  Nature,”  beginning  from  the  objective  point  of  view,  and 
tracing  it  up  to  God,  the  soul  of  the  world : Baader  has  begun  from 
the  subjective  side  ; and,  from  the  phenomena  of  mind,  has  inferred 
the  order  of  the  universe ; while  Steffens  has  united  both  sides  in 
himself,  and  shown  the  absolute  unity  of  nature  and  the  soul.  In 
all  these  writers,  there  is  one  prominent  purpose  exhibited — that  of 
destroying  the  bare  mechanical  views  of  nature,  which  men  have 


728 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


usually  entertained,  and  showing  it  to  be  a living  manifestation  of 
mind ; yea,  to  be  nothing  else  than  the  infinite  mind  itself,  in  its 
various  potencies  and  reflections.  These  philosophers,  accord- 
ingly, imagine  that  the  study  of  nature  is  only  just  dawning  ; that 
the  time  is  coming,  when,  from  our  direct  intuition  of  the  soul  of 
the  world,  in  its  original  essence,  the  whole  theory  and  phenomena 
of  creation  shall  be  fully  explained  ; that  all  observation  and  experi- 
ment may  be  then  dispensed  with,  and  natural  philosophy  find  its 
completion  in  the  deductions  of  our  pure  reason. 

The  tendency  of  such  a system  can,  of  course,  be  no  other  than 
to  discourage  experimental  philosophy,  and  to  reduce  physical  sci- 
ence to  a string  of  deductions,  resting  upon  certain  original  princi- 
ples, claimed  to  be  intuitive.  To  the  due  employment  of  our  higher 
reason,  in  the  department  of  physics,  we  can  conceive  of  no  valid 
objection.  Where  conclusions  can  be  drawn,  in  consistence  with 
the  laws  of  our  rational  nature,  let  us  boldly  draw  them,  though 
they  should  lead  us  into  the  depths  of  ontological  speculation ; but 
the  admission  of  mysticism  into  these  regions,  is  something  quite 
of  a different  nature.  Reason,  properly  speaking,  only  erects  its 
deductions  upon  observed  and  tangible  facts,  (such  as  that  of 
the  divine  existence,  from  the  marks  of  design  displayed  in  the 
universe  ;)  but  the  mysticism  we  have  described  assumes  its  foun- 
dation principles,  and  erects  its  superstructure  upon  them  in  such 
a manner  that  the  facts  are  made  entirely  subservient  to  the  theory, 
instead  of  the  theory  emanating  from  the  facts. 

Mysticism,  again,  has  made  some  few',  and  rather  abortive  ef- 
forts, to  mould  into  a new  form  the  principle  and  the  details  of 
legislation.  Mr.  Greaves,  to  whom  we  have  before  referred,  has 
attempted  to  found  a new  system  of  spiritual  socialism,  by  discov- 
ering the  inward  subjective  bond,  by  which  men  are  united  in 
society,  and  seeking  to  strengthen  this  bond  by  moral  or  educa- 
tional means  and  appliances.  “ The  religious,  moral,  political,  and 
commercial  social  arrangements,”  he  observes,  “ have  been  based, 
from  the  comencement  of  society,  upon  the  modal  natures,  instead 
of  the  U7iiversal  natures.”  He  proposes,  accordingly,  to  look  be- 
neath the  surface  of  humanity,  down  to  the  universal  essence  of 
which  it  consists,  to  draw  forth  into  intense  operation  the  love- 
spirit  (as  he  denominates  it),  and,  by  these  means,  to  lead  men  to 
dwell  everywhere  without  the  wants  or  wishes  of  wealth,  without 
desire  of  individual  accumulation,  or  any  inequality  of  condition. 
Such  were  a few  of  the  benevolent  dreams  of  this  philanthropic 


TENDENCIES  OF  JIVSTICISM. 


729 


enthusiast.  Happy,  indeed,  would  it  be,  if  the  love  of  self  were  to 
perish,  and  the  world  were  to  become  united  in  the  strongest  ties 
of  universal  charity. 

This  consummation,  however,  we  fear,  is  not  to  be  attained  by 
the  mysticism  we  are  now  considering.  We  trust,  indeed,  that  it 
may  be  attained  at  last ; but  this  will  only  be  when  the  visions  of 
prophecy  are  fulfilled,  and  the  spirit  of  true  Christianity  animates 
every  soul  under  heaven.  We  need  not  particularly  refer  to  the 
analogous  doctrines  of  St.  Simon  and  Fourier  in  France,  who  have 
entertained  similar  visions  of  social  perfection  in  the  coming  state 
of  society.  Far  would  we  be  from  discouraging,  even  were  we 
able  to  do  so,  any  efforts  of  this  nature  to  call  forth  the  hidden 
sympathies  of  mankind  towards  each  other ; but  we  see  not  why 
the  ideas  of  human  brotherhood,  which  are  quite  familiar  to  the 
mind  of  every  right-thinking  Christian  man,  should  be  dressed  up 
in  a strange  and  eccentric  garb,  and  then  propounded  as  some  new 
system  w'hich  is  to  regenerate  society.  We  fully  believe  that 
everything  good,  belonging  to  these  doctrines,  may  be  found  in  the 
social  spirit  of  Christianity  ; and  that  all  which  they  contain  beyond 
this,  is  the  ebullition  of  an  ardent  but  false  enthusiasm,  yearning 
after  better  things  than  society  can  now  present. 

It  is  in  religion,  however,  that  the  tendencies  of  modern  mysti- 
cism are  chiefly  visible.  In  this  department  there  is,  as  we  imagine, 
a true  and  a false  mysticism — a true  one,  inasmuch  as  the  direct 
communion  of  the  soul  of  man  with  the  infinite  gives  rise  to  many 
phenomena,  which  it  were  vain  altogether  to  omit — and  a false 
one,  inasmuch  as  there  is  a universal  proneness  in  mankind  to  run 
into  extremes  upon  all  those  subjects  which  excite  their  deepest 
feelings.  To  test  the  question,  whether  there  be  such  a thing  as 
a true  mysticism  in  religion,  we  have  simply  to  ask,  whether  our 
whole  knowledge  on  this  subject  comes  from  reason  and  revelation 
combined,  or  whether  there  is  not  another  element  of  truth,  flowing 
from  our  spiritual  feelings  or  our  religious  consciousness.  The 
primary  truths  of  natural  theology  may,  of  course,  be  viewed  as 
deductions  of  reason ; other  religious  ideas,  again,  come  from  an 
immediate  revelation ; but  are  we  to  say,  that  this  exhausts  our 
sources  of  religious  knowledge  ? Is  there  not  a direct  communi- 
cation of  the  human  mind  with  the  Divine  ? and  does  not  this 
communion  give  us  a deeper  insight  into  the  divine  nature  than 
reason  or  revelation,  or  both  of  them  combined  could  ever  afford  ? 
It  is  generally  admitted,  that  the  highest  conception  of  Deity  which 


730 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


our  reason  can  form,  is  a very  cold  and  abstract  one — one  which 
can  hardly  reach  beyond  the  notion  of  a first  cause,  and  with  diffi- 
culty attain  to  that  of  an  infinite  personality  ; and  even  if  we  come 
to  the  page  of  revelation  itself,  yet  all  the  descriptions  which  it 
gives  us  of  the  attributes  of  God,  form  but  a very  indistinct  image 
upon  a mind  that  simply  puts  these  notions  together  by  a logical 
process,  and  has  no  community  of  feeling  with  Deity  itself.  If  it 
be  the  case,  therefore,  that  for  gaining  a deep  insight  into  the  per- 
fections of  God,  we  must  rise  to  a communion  of  the  heart  and 
sympathy  of  feeling  with  him,  then  there  is  in  religion  a true  and 
valid  mysticism,  which  has  to  be  cherished  in  every  mind  that 
thirsts  after  God.  ’ Mysticism  of  this  nature  forms,  in  fact,  a reg- 
ular portion  of  the  common  belief  of  all  Christian  countries.  The 
theological  doctrine  of  divine  influence  is  but  the  dogmatical  mode 
of  expressing  a fact,  which  is  almost  equally  evident  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  natural  religion  ; namely,  that  ere  w'e  can  enter  fully  into 
the  conception  of  God,  both  in  his  own  nature  and  in  his  relation 
to  the  world,  the  spirit  of  man  must  be  brought  into  mysterious 
communion  and  sympathy  with  the  Spirit  of  God. 

But  there  is  also  a false  mysticism,  as  well  as  a true,  to  which 
we  must  for  a moment  advert.  This  is  of  two  kinds.  First,  when 
communion  with  the  divine  mind  is  supposed  to  be  gained  by  some 
artifieial  agency ; or,  secondly,  when  it  is  supposed  to  be  of  such  a 
nature,  as  to  realize  the  full  idea  of  inspiration.  If  a man  assert, 
that,  by  the  performance  of  certain  outward  acts,  the  human  spirit 
can  be  united  in  sympathy  with  that  of  God,  he  advoeates  an  in- 
credible mysticism,  inasmuch  as  he  attributes  spiritual  functions  to 
bare  material  causes.  Or,  again,  if  a man  asserts  that,  by  any 
means  whatever,  whether  physical  or  mental,  he  has  such  an  in- 
tuition of  spiritual  truth,  that  it  completely  transcends,  and  renders 
useless,  the  agency  of  his  natural  faculties,  he  is  likewise  a mystic  ; 
for  he  is  laying  claim  to  a species  of  inspiration,  which  is  altogether 
foreign  to  our  present  experience  in  the  world.  We  do  not  say, 
that  he  is  laying  claim  to  anything  in  itself  impossible  ; but  we 
mean  that  inspiration,  in  this  sense,  is  a phenomenon  so  extraor- 
dinary, that  it  must  prove  itself  valid,  by  the  most  clear  and  un- 
questionable evidences ; in  default  of  w’hich,  it  can  be  considered 
nought  but  a deception. 

Of  these  two  species  of  false  mysticism,  there  are  many  exhi- 
bitions in  the  present  day.  We  doubt  whether  the  whole  doctrine 
of  sacramental  efficacy,  as  held  by  many  sincere  minds,  is  not  ac- 


CONCLUSION. 


731 


curately  designated  as  a mysticism  of  the  former  kind ; inasmuch 
as  it  is  all  based  upon  the  notion  of  a spiritual  effect  being  commu- 
nicated to  the  mind  by  an  unconscious  and  objective  instrumen- 
tality. So  entirely  foreign  is  this  from  the  ordinary  modes  of  the 
divine  operation,  in  the  worlds  both  of  matter  and  of  mind,  that 
we  need  a proof  sufficient  to  attest  a miracle  itself,  to  render  the 
doctrine  at  all  credible.  With  regard  to  the  other  species  of  false 
mysticism,  namely,  the  pretension  to,  or  belief  in,  a supernatural 
inspiration  now  enjoyed,  we  suppose  it  still  lingers  amongst  the 
ignorant  or  the  enthusiastic,  and  will  only  gradually  expire,  as  the 
province  of  faith  and  of  feeling  in  religion  becomes  gradually  more 
accurately  defined.  Faith  in  the  supernatural,  we  may  safely  say, 
can  never  die  out  of  humanity,  but  will  ever  remain  a standing 
proof  of  our  connection  with  a spiritual  world.  While  this,  how- 
ever, is  the  case,  we  may  well  anticipate,  that  the  progress  of  sci- 
ence, the  further  investigation  of  the  laws  of  the  human  feelings, 
and  the  fuller  conception  of  what  is  included  in  religious  faith,  will, 
ere  long,  bring  the  tendency  to  mysticism  into  its  proper  bounds, 
and  curb  the  extravagance  of  superstition,  without  crushing  our 
faith  in  what  is  spiritual  and  divine. 


CONCLUSION. 

There  is  one  truth  which  the  whole  of  our  inquiries  into  the 
speculative  philosophy  of  the  present  age  is  calculated  to  teach — 
namely,  that  the  great  question  of  philosophy  is  that  of  method. 
Upon  the  view  we  take  of  this  one  point,  must  depend  nearly  the 
whole  influence  we  exert  upon  the  real  progress  of  human  knowl- 
edge. 

Amidst  the  vast  variety  of  systems  that  prevail  throughout  the 
wwld  in  the  present  day,  we  may  trace  the  features  of  four  generic 
methods,  e.  of  four  grounds  of  appeal  for  the  certitude  of  our 
knowledge.  These  four  methods  we  may  term  respectively,  the 
positive  principle,  the  individual  principle,  the  traditional  principle, 
and  the  eclectic  principle. 

The  positive  principle  in  strictness  ought  to  be  regarded,  not  so 
much  in  the  light  of  a philosophical  method,  as  the  denial  at  once 


732 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


both  of  method  and  of  philosophy.  Instead  of  attempting  the  so- 
lution of  the  great  problems  of  human  interest,  it  repels  them  : in- 
stead of  grappling  with  the  questions  which  every  thinking  mind 
asks  with  a trembling  earnestness,  it  chides  us  for  our  longings, 
our  aspirations,  our  holiest  hopes.  Doubtless,  it  may  claim  some 
degree  of  definiteness  and  precision ; but  it  is  a definiteness  and  a 
precision,  which  arise  from  negation,  not  from  solution ; it  owes 
its  security  simply  to  the  fact  of  its  going,  like  the  serpent,  upon 
its  belly,  and  eating  only  of  the  dust  of  the  earth.  A philosophy 
that  never  soars,  can  certainly  claim  exemption  from  the  danger 
of  a fall. 

We  will  suppose,  however,  nay,  we  will  affirm,  that  there  is  such 
a thing  as  truth  beyond  the  limits  of  the  senses:  on  what  then  is  its 
certitude  grounded  ? There  are  two  opposite  answers,  which  are 
given  to  this  question  by  the  philosophies  of  the  age.  On  the  one 
hand,  we  are  pointed  to  the  individual  reason,  as  the  absolute 
source  of  all  scientific  truth.  Our  own  consciousness,  it  is  said, 
must  ever  be  the  final  appeal.  In  whatever  way  truth  may  come 
to  us,  still  reason  must  be  the  judge  of  its  evidence,  and  the  inter- 
preter of  its  meaning.  Whatever  amount  of  truth  may  exist  ob- 
jectively, yet  to  us  it  can  be  nothing,  until  it  is  grasped  subjectively 
by  the  understanding.  Upon  the  validity,  therefore,  of  the  intel- 
lectual faculties,  the  whole  ultimate  certitude  of  truth  must  rest. 
Such  is  the  position  which  the  individual  principle  assumes  in  the 
struggle  for  truth. 

Another  and  opposite  system  of  philosophy  answers  the  question 
above  proposed,  in  an  entirely  different  manner.  The  individual 
reason,  it  contends,  is  utterly  untrustworthy.  A man  may  ground 
upon  his  own  subjective  convictions  any  amount  of  absurdity  that 
cam  be  imagined.  Besides  this,  it  is  asked,  what  is  the  individual 
reason  ? A mere  nonentity.  Every  man  is  but  a portion  of  hu- 
manity— a link  in  the  vast  chain  of  being.  His  belief  is  not  the 
result  of  his  own  individual  constitution,  but  of  the  influences  of 
the  age  in  which  he  lives.  Man,  as  an  individual,  is  subject  to 
the  grossest  delusions  ; neither  at  any  time  can  human  truth  be  any 
other  than  relative  to  the  state  and  conditions  of  the  understand- 
ing ; so  that,  if  we  possess  absolute  knowledge  at  all,  it  must  come 
fi’om  an  objective  source.  This  source  is  God.  In  the  primitive 
revelation,  in  the  Divine  gift  of  speech,  and  in  subsequent  commu- 
nications, there  has  been  a direct  outpouring  of  truth  from  Heaven 
itself.  Here,  then,  it  is  said,  is  the  ground  of  all  certainty ; here  a 


CONCLUSION. 


733 


species  of  knowledge,  which  is  altogether  raised  above  the  delusions 
of  the  individual. 

Now,  that  there  is  some  amount  of  truth  in  each  of  the  prin- 
ciples above  stated,  can  be  readily  admitted.  The  intimations  of 
sense,  for  example,  though  not  the  sole  fountain  of  knowledge,  as 
the  positivist  supposes,  yet  give  the  primai’y  incentive  to  all  the 
faculties,  and  furnish  one  very  important  element  in  our  experience. 
The  individual  self,  again,  most  assuredly  contains  the  mould 
through  which  all  the  material  of  our  knowledge  must  pass,  ere  it 
can  be  apprehended  and  employed — in  a word,  ere  to  us  it  can 
exist.  But  the  individual  self  is  still  a portion  of  humanity,  and 
can  only  confirm  its  own  subjective  convictions  by  an  appeal  to 
the  authority  of  other  minds  around  it.  Hence,  then,  arises  the 
necessity  and  the  value  of  eclecticism. 

The  term  eclecticism,  we  should  say,  is  here  employed,  merely 
through  deficiency  of  some  better  and  more  scientific  appellation, 
and  in  a sense  very  different  from  that  of  its  more  general  use. 
We  are  desirous,  therefore,  in  conclusion,  of  throwing  some  light 
upon  it,  w^hen  viewed  as  a philosophical  method. 

Eclecticism,  in  the  sense  we  employ  it,  may  be  described  as  the 
philosophy  of  progress.  Take  any  fixed  philosophical  method,  and 
if  it  be  in  itself  complete,  it  ought  to  give  a complete  result.  If  all 
truth,  for  example,  can  be  eliminated  from  the  individual  reason, 
there  is  the  same  possibility  of  its  being  completed  in  one  period 
of  the  world  as  in  any  other,  because  the  individual  reason — the 
me — abstractedly  viewed,  is  the  same  in  all  ages.  If  there  be  prog- 
ress in  the  development  of  truth,  then  there  must  be  some  prin- 
ciple out  of  and  beyond  the  individual,  which  exerts  its  influence 
upon  the  human  mind  at  large ; that  is,  there  must  be  some  ele- 
ment, out  of  and  beyond  the  individual,  on  which  philosophical 
truth  is  partly  grounded.  The  case  is  the  same  with  regard  to  the 
principle  of  tradition.  Here  we  have  a truth,  fixed  and  abiding,  in 
which  there  can  be  no  question  of  progress  whatever.  What  has 
come  to  us  verbally  and  objectively  from  above,  can  neither  be 
further  developed  nor  put  into  new  relations,  without  admitting 
another,  and  that  a human  principle,  by  means  of  which  the  devel- 
opment takes  place.  In  fact,  whatever  fixed  appeal  we  may  set  up 
as  the  ground  of  certitude,  it  can  only  hold  good  on  the  supposition, 
that  philosophical  truth  is  something  fixed  and  abiding  likewise. 

History,  however,  shows  us,  that  in  human  knowledge — i.  e.  in 
the  compression  and  application  of  truth — there  is  perpetual  prog- 


734 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY. 


ress.  There  is  hardly  a single  subject,  which  is  viewed  exactly 
in  the  same  light  one  century  that  it  is  the  next.  The  universal 
field  of  knowledge  being  enlarged,  all  the  particular  portions  of  it 
are  thrown  continually  into  new  relations. 

Regarding  philosophy,  then,  as  progressive,  what  appeal  can  we 
have  as  final — what  ground  of  certitude  on  which  we  can  fully 
rely  ? We  answer,  that  the  one  final  appeal,  and  the  ultimate 
ground  of  certitude  in  philosophy,  is  humanity.  Positivism  gives 
us  truth  and  error ; the  individual  reason  gives  us  truth  and  error  ; 
tradition  gives  us  truth  and  error ; but  humanity  sifts  the  results 
of  individual  thinking,  and  hands  us  down  a stream  of  truth,  ever 
widening  as  it  flows  onwards. 

The  philosophy  we  advocate,  then,  is  the  philosophy  of  progress ; 
we  see  a providential  plan  in  the  development  of  society ; under 
this  plan,  we  see  the  vast  edifice  of  human  knowledge  gradually 
perfecting  by  the  laborers  who  are  working  upon  it  in  all  depart- 
ments ; and  the  solid  material  of  which  the  edifice  is  composed,  is 
the  catholic  thinking  of  mankind. 

Were  not  the  phrase  pre-occupied,  we  might  term  our  philosophy 
the  philosophy  of  common  sense,  that  is,  of  the  sensus  communis 
of  humanity.  This  sensus  communis,  however,  is  not  anything 
fixed,  it  is  not  made  up  of  the  mass  of  opinions  which  are  held  at 
any  one  given  period  ; but  embodies  that  gradual  unfolding  of  great 
truths  and  principles,  by  which  the  world’s  thinking  rolls  forward 
to  compass  its  mighty  results.  Only  admit  that  humanity  is  verily 
in  progress,  and  it  follows  at  once,  that  neither  the  individual  nor 
the  common  opinion  of  one  given  period,  can  represent  the  whole 
cycle  of  philosophical  truth.  The  fixed  method  of  one  period  be- 
comes inadequate  to  the  wants  of  the  next,  and  thus  shows  us  that 
we  require  a methodology,  which  can  adapt  itself  to  all  the  possible 
phases  which  knowledge  may  yet  assume. 

The  method  which  appears  to  us  best  capable  of  supplying  this 
demand,  is  that  which  we  have  now  described,  and  which  we  have 
denominated  eclecticism,  or  the  philosophy  of  human  progress. 
According  to  this  method,  the  great  aim  of  philosophy  from  hence- 
forth, must  be  to  accept  the  light  of  truth,  whencesoever  it  may 
flow,  to  concentrate  the  rays  it  sheds  around  into  one  focus,  and 
thus  to  bring  the  catholic  thought  of  the  world,  in  each  succeeding 
age,  into  the  region  of  pure  idea.  It  has  been  well  said,  that  the 
problem  of  philosophy  is  common  sense.  The  actual  material  of 
which  it  is  composed  can  be  none  other  than  the  whole  mass  of 


CONCLUSION. 


735 


truth  which  lies  embodied  in  the  thinking  of  every  age ; and  to  the 
authority  of  the  age  alone  can  we  make  our  final  appeal.  The  duty 
of  speculative  science,  is  to  bring  the  truth  of  the  age  to  light ; to 
clear  it  of  its  dross  and  its  symbols ; to  make  it  stand  forth  as 
plain,  reflective,  philosophic  knowledge.  Accordingly,  the  common 
mind  and  the  individual  mind  have  here  each  their  department; 
the  one  furnishes  the  matter  of  our  philosophy,  the  other  may  give 
it  a form  ; the  one  offers  us  the  truth,  so  far  as  it  can  be  at  present 
grasped,  spontaneously  ; the  other  reduces  this  spontaneous  apper- 
ception to  the  character  of  logical  science— to  philosophy  properly 
so  called.  Thus,  while  philosophy  will  be  the  last  word  which 
every  age  pronounces,  it  will  furnish  the  forepost  of  observation, 
upon  which  the  more  advanced  thinkers  will  stand  to  look  forwards 
and  discern  the  diilj  forms  of  the  coming  futurity.  Doubtless  the 
same  speculative  tendencies  will  be  again  and  again  reproduced, 
and  upon  some  short-sighted  minds  may  produce  the  impression 
that  philosophy  is  confined  within  one  eternal  circle,  out  of  which 
it  can  never  free  itself.  But  the  mind  which  studies  humanity 
aright,  will  see  that  its  movement  is  rather  that  of  the  spiral,  which, 
though  making  its  perpetual  revolutions,  is  ever  tending  upwards 
towards  a higher  perfection,  and  pointing  to  Heaven  itself  as  its 
final  aim. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  A. 

Philosophy — Theology — Religion. 

The  few  passing  remarks  on  the  above  subjects,  inserted  in  the  text,  have  excited 
gome  attention.  Several  writers  have  expressed  entire  concurrence  in  the  views  there 
presented  j others,  on  the  contrary,  at  least  to  some  extent,  have  questioned  their  accu- 
racy. Dr.  Tholuck,  in  a notice  of  the  present  work,  inserted  in  the  “ Literarischer  An- 
zeiger,”  has  expressed  his  wish  that  the  question  between  faith  and  science  had  been 
more  fully  elucidated;  and  Dr.  Chalmers,  in  the  North  British  Review,  has  reclaimed 
against  our  theistic  principles,  in  favor  of  those  contained  in  his  own  “ natural  The- 
ology.” Under  these  circumstances,  we  need  to  make  no  apology  for  the  additional  re- 
marks now  inserted  on  a subject  of  such  vast  and  universal  importance.  Our  simple 
object  in  doing  so  is,  to  rescue  the  theology  of  our  age  from  the  weak  position  which  we 
cannot  but  feel  it  has  too  often  assumed,  and  place  it  upon  a basis  that  is  less  assailable 
by  the  shafts  of  scepticism.  As  the  word  philosophy,  when  used  in  connection  with  relig- 
ion, is  so  apt  to  be  misunderstood,  we  shall  for  the  present  lay  it  entirely  aside,  and 
attempt  to  reduce  the  question  to  its  simplest  terms. 

It  will  be  admitted,  in  the  outset,  that  we  have  minds ; that  these  minds  have  a given 
constitution;  that  by  virtue  of  this  constitution  we  are  adapted  to  perceive  certain 
truths,  and  to  exercise  our  faculties  upon  them.  The  problem,  then,  to  be  solved  is  this. 
How  far  do  we  owe  our  theological  belief  to  the  nature  of  our  constitution,  and  the  ex- 
ercise of  our  faculties ; and  how  far  to  a direct  objective  relation  1 in  other  words.  What 
part  of  the  proof  both  of  Theism  and  of  Christianity  comes  from  the  one  source,  and 
what  from  the  other '!  Only  let  us  premise,  that  we  leave  the  question  of  Religion  for 
a little  entirely  in  abeyance,  and  direct  our  attention  simply  to  that  of  Theology — that 
we  are  not  now  to  search  into  the  origin  of  our  devotional  feelings,  but  simply  of  our 
theological  ideas  and  principles. 

Now,  the  whole  question  of  theology  most  begin  with  the  evidences  we  have  of  the 
being  of  a God : this  is  the  foundation  truth  on  which  the  whole  reposes.  Respecting 
these  evidences  there  are  three  hypotheses  we  may  assume.  1.  That  the  being  of  God 
is  purely  a truth  of  revelation.  2.  That  it  is  a truth,  which  rests  partly  on  natural 
grounds,  and  partly  on  revelation  ; or,  3.  'I'hat  it  rests  in  its  last  analysis  solely  upon 
the  light  of  nature!  The  abettors  of  the  first  hypothesis  view  the  human  faculties  as 
erring  and  untrustworthy,  and  appeal  to  revelation  as  the  ultimate  basis  of  all  fixed 
and  eternal  trvth.  Those  who  accept  the  second  hypothesis,  admit  the  validity  of  rea- 
son on  the  whole,  but  consider  the  aid  of  revelation  necessary  to  complete  the  full 
strength  of  the  theistic  argument.  Among  these,  we  reckon  the  eloquent  critic  of  the 
North  British  Review.  Those  who  take  the  last  hypothesis,  view  natural  theology  as 
the  necessary  basis  of  all  revealed  truth. 

With  the  first  class  of  these  reasoners  we  have  now  but  little  to  do.  There  are  verj’ 
few  among  those  that  bear  the  name  of  Protestants,  who  deny  the  validity  of  reason 
altogether.  Theologians  of  this  class  belong  almost  exclusively  to  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church,  who  find  it  convenient  to  decry  reason,  in  order  to  force  us  into  the  arras  of 
tradition,  as  the  only  ground  of  human  certitude.  To  these,  natural  theology  is  a 
nonentity ; it  exists  not  in  any  form  whatever ; all  human  belief  is  an  affair  of  tradition, 
handed  down  from  a primitive  or  some  posterior  revelation.  We  may  let  this  theory, 
then,  stand  at  present  hors  <le  combat. 

We  come,  then,  to  the  second  hypothesis,  viz.,  that  the  evidence  of  the  being  of  a 
God  rests  upon  grounds  partly  natural  and  partly  revealed.  And  here  an  objection 
arises  in  the  outset,  against  the  hypothesis  in  question  ; namely,  that  the  truth,  of  Ike 


APPENDIX. 


737 


Dtvtne  existence  is  absolutely  necessary,  in  order  to  establish,  the  authority  of  revelation. 
Take  the  evidences  of  revelation  one  by  one,  and  it  will  be  found,  that  they  each  and  all 
go  upon  the  presumption  of  the  existence  of  a God.  What  are  the  internal  evidences 
but  representations  of  the  fact,  that  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  are  all  in  perfect  con- 
sistency with  the  highest  conceptions  we  can  form  of  the  Divine  character  1 Leave 
the  existence  of  God  out  of  the  question,  or  imagine  yourself  talking  to  an  atheist,  and 
of  what  use  are  all  the  appeals  you  make  to  the  purity,  excellence,  and  Divine  grandeur 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures'?  These  considerations  do  not  prove  the  being  of  a God;  they 
only  show  that  on  the  previous  admission  of  his  existence,  the  sacred  writings  bear  in- 
ternal marks  of  coming  from  his  Divine  mind. 

The  case  is  the  same  with  regard  to  the  external  evidences.  What  is  a miracle  to  a 
man  who  has  no  notion  of  or  belief  in  a God?  If  the  universe  could  come  by  chance 
or  fate,  surely  any  of  the  lesser  phenomena  termed  miraculous,  might  occur  so  too. 
We  do  not  question,  indeed,  but  that  miracles  may  rouse  the  moral  nature  and  draw 
attention  to  divine  truth ; but,  logically,  if  the  whole  universe  can  exist  without  a maker, 
miracles  cannot  prove  the  contrary.  In  a word,  the  whole  authority  of  revelation  is 
derived  from  the  fact  of  its  coming  prom  God  ; consequently,  its  authority  cannot  be 
appealed  to  as  an  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God.  To  make  the  credibility  of  reve- 
lation rest  upon  the  authority  of  God,  and  the  being  of  God  upon  the  authority  of 
revelation,  is  as  complete  an  instance  of  a vicious  circle  as  could  well  be  imagined.  If 
it  be  said  that  the  whole  of  the  histories  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  exhibit  the 
marks  of  a Divine  hand  in  connection  with  the  welfare  and  moral  education  of  man, 
I admit  it.  But  this  proof  does  not  arise  from  the  authority  of  revelation  as  such,  but 
simply  from  the  historical  facts  recorded.  The  religious  history  of  mankind  may  cer- 
tainly be  used  as  a branch  of  the  theistic  argument ; but  to  argue  from  the  facts  of  his- 
tory wherever  recorded,  is  as  purely  logical  a process  as  to  argue  from  any  other  facts 
whatever.  The  case  is  the  same,  when  we  appeal  to  the  Bible  as  a witness  of  the  fact 
that  the  world  had  a beginning.  If  we  want  to  employ  this  fact  as  a step  in  our  argu- 
ment for  the  being  of  a God,  and  against  the  eternity  of  the  universe,  we  can  only 
appeal  to  the  Bible  as  history ; to  appeal  to  it  as  authority  on  this  point,  suppose.s  the 
previous  knowledge  of  a divine  Being  from  whom  that  authority  is  derived.  And  thus 
twist  about  the  evidences  of  revelation  as  we  may,  they  cannot  prove  that  God  is ; but 
are  simply  adapted  to  show  us  that  Christianity  came  from  a Being,  of  whose  existence 
and  attributes  we  have  a previous  conviction. 

Thus,  then,  we  are  thrown  entirely  upon  our  third  hypothesis  ; namely,  that  the 
proof  of  the  Divine  existence,  in  its  last  analysis,  lies  entirely  within  the  province  of 
natural  theology. 

Before  we  proceed  to  develop  the  line  of  argument  we  should  employ  in  establishing 
the  existence  of  God,  let  us  take  a passing  glance  at  the  nature  and  purport  of  natural 
theology.  The  aim  of  natural  theology  is  not  to  give  us  the  knowledge,  but  to  give 
us  the  science  of  God.  Our  knowledge  of  God  as  a part  of  our  personal  history  may- 
come  from  a variety  of  sources.  We  may  believe  in  God  from  tradition,  from  the  Bible, 
from  our  feelings,  from  2uany  other  causes.  But  natural  theology,  originating  as  it 
does  after  we  have  the  knowledge  of  God  as  a practical  belief,  seeks  to  render  an  ac- 
count of  that  knowledge,  to  justify  that  belief,  to  bring  the  whole  matter  into  the  light 
of  scientific  or  moral  truth.  To  do  this,  it  must  construct,  as  it  were,  the  very  idea  of 
God  : point  out  how  it  originates  in  the  human  mind,  and  show  how  far  it  is  objectively 
valid.  It  is  necessary  carefully  to  guard  this  distirlction.  We  are  often  told  that  we 
must  look  out  upon  the  universe,  or  study  the  page  of  revelation,  or  consult  our  relig- 
ious affections,  in  order  to  find  God.  All  this  may  be  true,  as  regards  our  personal 
convictions,  while  yet  the  real  scientific  proofs  may  lie  in  another  direction.  Natural 
theology  does  not  preach,  or  appeal ; it  simply  reasons.  It  does  not  aim  directly  at  a 
moral  effect,  but  only  at  a logical  conclusion. 

Another  point  to  be  carefully  attended  to  is  this,  that  we  do  not  start  with  the  suppo- 
sition, that  the  idea  of  God  is  already  found  and  agreed  upon.  This  is  an  error  lying 
at  the  threshold  of  almost  all  the  natural  theology  which  our  recent  literature  has  pro- 
duced. Our  writers  look  around  upon  the  laws  and  dispositions  of  matter,  and  finding 
there  the  evidences  of  design,  exclaim,  lo!  here  is  God.  True  enough,  but  they  had 
gained  their  conceptions  of  God  from  other  sources;  they  had  taken  some  theistic  no- 
tions, derived  perhaps  from  the  age,  or  from  their  own  minds,  or  still  more  probably 
from  Christianity,  and  attributed  the  design  manifested  in  nature  to  this  Being.  To 
do  so,  however,  is  manifestly  an  illegitimate  and  totally  illogical  process.  The  problem 
is,  to  find  God,  to  deduce  the  true  idea  of  the  Deity,  to  lay  aside  all  previous  conceptions, 
and  show  how  we  arise  step  by  step  up  to  Deity  itself.  When  we  see  design  in  nature, 
all  we  can  say  is,  that  there  is  a designer,  or  some  designers  : we  are  not  to  seize  upon 
our  previous  traditional  or  spontaneous  belief,  and  say  we  have  proved  the  existence 

7 


738 


APPENDIX. 


of  God  in  this  particular  sense.  Natural  theology,  we  repeat,  implies  a logical  pro- 
cedure ; it  demands  that  we  take  nothing  before  received  for  granted,  that  we  lay  aside 
every  previous  conception,  that  we  render  a scientific  account  of  what  God  is  as  well 
as  a proof  of  the  fact  that  he  is.  Strictly  speaking,  indeed,  the  former  process  is  nec-  ' ' 
cssary  to  the  latter;  for  to  prove  that  God  is,  is  proving  nothing  at  all,  unless  you  show 
the  notion  we  liave  to  attach  to  the  term  itself.  Until  this  is  done,  the  word  God  may 
mean  fate,  or  chance,  or  power,  or  a mere  demiurge. 

In  this  respect,  there  is  an  entire  want  of  parallelism  between  the  case,  in  which, 
from  seeing  a watch,  we  infer  some  human  constructor,  and  the  case,  in  which,  from 
seeing  the  universe,  we  infer  a God.  In  the  former  instance,  we  have  previous  experi- 
ence of  the  agent  and  at  once  attribute  the  work  to  an  agent  of  this  kind  : in  the 
latter  instance,  we  have  no  experience  of  the  agent  God.  We  have,  therefore,  to  gain 
the  conception  of  him  as  well  as  prove  his  objective  reality.  Real  parallelism  between 
the  two  cases  would  imply  a question  of  this  kind.  If  I were  a pure  disembodied  spirit, 
and  having  never  known  what  man  was,  had  to  derive  my  knowledge  of  him  from  his 
works,  how  much  could  I deduce  respecting  his  nature  from  contemplating  a watch  I 
I should  be  obliged,  of  course,  in  such  a case,  to  construct  the  conception  of  such  an 
agent  from  the  qualities  of  my  own  mind,  to  rise  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  i 
from  the  agency  I find  in  myself  to  that  which  I am  now  called  on  to  suppose  in  an-  ' 
other.  So  it  is  also  with  regard  to  God.  The  very  proofs  which  substantiate  the  i 
divine  existence,  have  also  to  furnish  us  with  our  conceptions  of  the  divine  nature  : ; 
and,  consequently,  no  proofs  which  do  not  carry  with  them  the  complete  type  of  that  j 
divine  nature,  are  competent,  single  handed,  to  raise  our  minds  to  God. 

The  argument  of  natural  theology,  then,  is  a very  complex  one.  Every  part  of  the  , 
creation,  external  and  internal,  brings  its  contribution  to  it.  Instead  of  attempting  to  | 
deduce  the  existence  of  the  Deity  from  one,  and  that  the  very  lowest  region  of  observa-  ; 
tion,  namely,  the  region  of  matter,  we  endeavor  to  build  the  argument  up  step  by  step,  ’ 
employing  every  species  of  proof  until  it  attains  a cumulative  force,  before  which  the  ^ 
sternest  scepticism  must  be  swept  away. 

First,  then,  let  us  look  out  upon  nature.  What  do  we  see,  gazing  on  it  outwardly? 
The  answer  is,  mechanism.  As  the  mechanism  of  a watch  irresistibly  suggests  a maker, 
so  the  mechanism  of  the  universe  equally  suggests  a cause.  We  do  not  define  yet  of 
what  nature  the  cause  is : let  it  be  fate,  let  it  be  chance,  let  it  be  anything  you  please, 
still  it  must  have  been  something.  If  a man  be  found  murdered  by  the  way-side,  there 
is  no  need  of  beginning  the  evidence  in  a court  of  law,  that  some  one  or  something 
must  have  committed  it.  So  in  the  case  of  the  world,  there  is  no  need  of  bringing  any 
proof  that  there  has  been  some  cause  or  comscs,  which  have  brought  it  into  its  present 
state.  If  it  have  existed  from  eternity,  the  cause  or  causes  must  have  operated  from 
eternity.  Even  those  who  speak  of  fate,  as  their  God,  must  mean,  that  so^netking,  i.  e. 
some  power  or  other,  is  signified  under  the  word  fate.  The  only  thing  we  have  to  do 
is  to  examine  the  effect,  and  see  if  from  it  we  can  learn  anything  respecting  the  cause. 
Now,  the  moment  we  come  to  ask  respecting  this  cause  qualis  sit,  we  begin  necessarily 
to  argue  from  the  only  instance  of  direct  efficient  causation  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted, namelv,  from  our  own  minds.  And  probably  the  most  immediate  idea  which 
men  unschooled'  in  reflection,  and  accustomed  simply  to  converse  with  nature,  would 
form  of  the  world’s  cause,  is  that  of  a being  like  themselves,  or  more  probably  of  a 
hierarchy  of  human  Deities.  No  one  will  affirm,  that  the  earlier  ages  of  the  world 
were  destitute  of  any  searchings  after  God.  So  far  from  that,  everything  in  the  myth- 
ical period  was  wondrously  gilded  with  the  divine.  The  only  thing  to  be  noticed  is, 
that  men  in  those  ages  conversed  mainly  with  nature  ; that  they  formed  their  conceptions 
of  the  numina  dicina  without  much  reflection,  and  chiefly  from  nature;  and  that  the 
argument  from  this  source  resulted  more  commonly  than  not  in  polytheism.  Can  we 
say  that  the  process  was  illogical  I I think  not.  Confine  our  view  to  nature  only 
with  its  endless  variations,  and  what  is  there  unnatural  in  admitting  the  whole  hie-  • 
rarchy  of  Olympus  I Nay,  history  and  present  experience  prove,  that  under  such  cir-  • 
cumstanccs  the  polytheistic  hypothesis  is  by  far  the  most  acceptable  to  the  human  , 
understanding.  Even  on  this  ground,  however,  the  chief  slnare  in  the  argument  is  ' 
derived  from  the  mind  or  the  consciousness,  lire  irresistible  belief  we  have  of  causation^ 
is  a primary  law  of  our  consciousness,  and  the  first  attempt  we  make  to  hy  postatize  the 
cause  of  the  universe  arouml  us,  is  the  transference  of  our  own  forms  ot  intelligeneej 
and  our  own  personality  into  the  conception  of  that  vast  architect,  or  hierarchy  ot  1 
architects,  by  whom  the  world  was  constructed.  The  theistic  argument,  then,  ini 
which  the  appeal  to  nature  is  the  prominent  teature,  ends  at  best  in  the  idea  of 

Anmov(jyo^.  ^ . 

But,  now,  we  enter  upon  another  process  of  reflection.  The  universe  presents  to 
our  view  innumerable  objects,  which  are  finite,  changeable,  and  dependent.  All  of 


APPENDIX. 


739 


them  consist  of  certain  forms  and  attributes,  united  to  a substance  or  substratum.  But 
substance,  in  its  finite  and  dependent  form,  cannot  be  self-existent;  for  it  has  come 
into  that  form  from  a previous  state,  i.  e.  has  been  brought  into  it  by  a prior  cause.  Go 
backwards  accordingly  in  the  chain  of  causes,  and  you  come  at  last  to  an  absolute 
cause.  There  must  be,  therefore,  something  previous  to  finite  existence  which  we  call 
Being  per  se,  something  which  is  self-existent,  underived,  absolute,  eternal.  Under  all 
the  fleeting  appearances  which  nature  presents,  there  is  something  abiding,  which  re- 
poses alike  at  the  basis  of  all — a Being  which  passes  not  away  with  her  changes. 
Here,  then,  is  the  dawn  of  the  infinite,  upon  the  human  mind — an  idea  which  is  soon 
reproduced  in  numberless  different  forms.  Think  of  space ; — we  see  it  stretching  out 
beyond  the  world,  beyond  our  system,  beyond  the  furthest  limits  of  creation  ; and  every 
bound  we  affix  to  it  only  carries  us  to  the  unbounded  beyond.  Think  of  time ; — all  the 
limits  of  duration  do  but  suggest  the  illimitable  eternity.  Think  of  dependent  exist- 
ence ; — and  we  sink  lower  and  lower  from  one  stage  of  dependence  to  another,  till  we 
rest  only  in  the  independent,  the  absolute.  Think  of  finite  being ; — what  is  it  but  an 
endless  paradox  without  infinite  being  1 Think  of  cause ; — what  does  it  end  in,  but 
the  causa  causarum,  the  spring  and  source  of  all  things.  The  idea  of  the  infinite  is  nec- 
essary, absolutely  necessary,  to  perfect  the  full  conception  of  God.  But  this  idea  comes  , 
not  from  without.  We  can  never  see,  we  can  never  have  any  experience  of  infinite; 
being,  and  yet  this  is  a positive  idea,  an  idea  of  which  we  feel  the  reality  and  necessity ; j 
yea,  without  which,  all  being  were  but  a paradox.  The  finite  is  really  the  negative' 
idea : it  only  comprehends  limitation  and  negation,  a limitation  which  is  universal 
within  the  regions  of  our  sensuous  knowledge.  But  reason,  taking  its  start  from  the 
finite,  brings  us  infallibly  to  the  infinite;  and  inasmuch  as  two  infinites  involve  a con- 
tradiction, it  finds  here  the  proof  of  the  unity  and  the  eternity  of  the  first  great  cause. 

Nature,  then,  gave  us  a demiurge  for  a Deity:  reflection  now  asserts  his  unity,  in- 
finity, and  eternity  ; and  we  have  thus  before  us  the  absolute  Being,  without  which  all 
thought,  all  creation,  all  nature,  would  be  involved  in  one  inexplicable  contradiction. 
As  polytheism  was  the  prevailing  sentiment  under  the  former  conception,  so  pantheism 
appears  to  be  on  the  whole  the  prevailing  result  of  the  second  or  metaphysical  stand- 
point. But  if  there  be  any  such  thing  as  truth  at  all,  if  there  be  any  common  principles 
on  which  the  human  reason  can  rest,  then  assuredly  the  universe  has  a ground,  or 
cause,  and  that  cause  is  self-existent,  absolute,  infinite,  eternal. 

But  again,  we  rise  into  another  region  of  proof,  and  that  is  the  moral.  The  only 
personality  of  which  we  have  any  direct  knowledge,  is  that  of  our  own  minds.  We 
must  take  mind  therefore  as  a field  of  observation,  as  a created  effect,  and  see  what  we 
can  learn  from  this  effect  of  the  infinite  cause.  Humanity  is  not  self-created.  The 
reason  we  possess  is  not  constructed  by  us  out  of  a state  of  unreason  If,  therefore,  it 
is  implanted  in  us,  then  the  being  who  implanted  it,  the  creator  of  the  spirit,  must  him- 
self possess  reason.  So  it  is  with  our  moral  sentiments.  If  there  is  a law  of  right  and 
wrong  engraven  upon  our  constitution,  there  must  have  been  a lawgiver.  All  the  ap- 
peals of  innocence  against  unrighteous  force  are  appeals  to  an  eternal  justice,  and  all 
the  visions  of  moral  purity  are  glimpses  of  the  infinite  excellence.  Ih  a word,  if  we 
see  in  nature,  in  mind,  in  history,  if  we  see  in  every  region  of  the  divine  operation, 
intelligence  adapting  means  to  an  end ; if  we  see  moral  sanctions  expressed  and  implied 
in  the  natural  tendencies  of  human  action ; if  we  see  all  this  moreover  effected  by  a 
supreme  intelligent  that  is,  a divine  will ; then  from  the  conceptions  we  have  of 

intelligence,  moriil  sentiments,  and  will,  as  existing  in  our  own  personality,  we  are 
constrained  to  regard  the  being  from  whom  they  all  flowed  as  himself  a personality,  in 
which  all  these  attributes  exist  in  their  fulness  and  perfection.  And  then,  at  length, 
when  we  have  once  attained  the  idea  of  a divine  personality,  we  may  go  back  again 
through  all  therealms  of  nature  and  existence,  and  gather  new  delight  from  the  infinite 
illustrations  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  which  they  perpetually  show  forth.  Thus 
it  is,  that  th«  teleological,  the  ontological,  and  the  moral  arguments,  blend  in  one,  and 
mutually  support  each  other.  To  extort  from  nature  alone,  a complete  proof  of  the 
divine  pe.’sonality,  is  throwing  ourselves  into  a false  position,  and  weakening  our  argu- 
ment bv  making  it  prove  too  much.  That  nature  has  a cause,  every  one  who  speaks 
intelligibly  must  admit.  The  main  object  of  the  ontological  argument,  is  to  prove  that 
this  cause  is  infinite,  self-existent,  one ; while  that  of  the  moral  is  to  prove  that  he  is 
intelligent,  holy,  free. 

Having  arrived  at  this  point,  we  have  wherewithal  to  ground  our  belief  in  the  au- 
thority of  revelation.  The  internal  and  external  evidences  can  now  both  appeal  to  the 
power  and  purity  of  the  Divinity ; and  then,  its  claim  to  the  title  of  a divine  message 
being  once  established,  revelation  can  carry  us  onwards  in  ourconceptionsof  the  divine 
nature,  to  a stUl  loftier  elevation.  Thus  revelation,  while  useless  at  the  basis,  may  yet 
become  the  crowning  piece  of  our  natural  theology.  Give  it  but  a pedestal  to  rest 


740 


APPENDIX. 


upon,  and  it  may  lead  us  into  the  loftiest  regions  of  divine  knowledge,  which  are  ac- 
cessible to  humanity  in  its  earthly  state.  Such  is  the  brief  outline  of  what  we  regard 
to  be  the  true  nature  of  the  theistic  argument. 

Were  we  required  to  point  out  the  region  in  which  the  whole  argument  is  best  con- 
centrated, we  should  refer  to  man,  as  himself  a living  embodiment  of  all  the  evidences. 
If  you  want  argument  from  design,  then  you  see  in  the  human  frame  the  most  perfect 
of  all  known  organization.  If  you  want  the  argument  from  then  man,  in  his 

conscious  dependence,  has  the  clearest  conviction  of  that  independent  and  absolute  one, 
on  which  his  own  being  reposes.  If  you  want  the  argument  from  reason  and  morals, 
then  the  human  mind  is  the  only  known  repository  of  both.  Man  is,  in  fact,  a micro- 
cosm— a universe  in  himself;  and  whatever  proof  the  whole  universe  affords,  is  involved 
in  principle,  in  man  himself.  With  the  image  of  God  before  us,  who  can  doubt  of  the 
divine  type  I 

Having  proceeded  thus  far  with  our  theistic  principles,  we  may  attempt  now  some 
few  further  adjustments  with  the  “ Natural  Theology”  of  the  “ North  British  Review.” 
The  eloquent  author  of  the  critique  before  referred  to,  handles  with  some  severity  the 
))rinciple  of  Cousin — that  W'c  must  find  the  infinite,  the  absolute,  the  self-existent  one 
in  the  depths  of  our  own  consciousness ; and  quotes  against  him  his  own  previous 
principle  of  pure  spontaneous  apperception,  as  being  contradictory  to  it.  “ Pure  spon- 
taneous reason  receives  its  light  direct  from  heaven  ; it  looks  up.  and  the  beams  of 
eternal  truth,  in  its  objective  reality,  fall  clear  and  unsullied  upon  it.  This  being  the 
case,”  says  the  reviewer,  “ why  should  we  seek  for  God  in  the  depths  of  our  own  psy- 
chology : how  can  the  reflection  be  brighter  than  the  primary  effulgence  1” 

I confess  it  was  somewhat  surprising  to  me,  that  so  able  a metaphysician,  in  mak- 
ing this  objection,  should  have  entirely  overlooked  the  distinction  between  our  primary 
and  spontaneous  knowledge  of  God,  and  theology  which  is  the  science  of  God.  Surely 
we  do  not  require  natural  theology,  as  a science,  to  give  us  our  first  conceptions  of  the 
Deity.  I might,  if  this  were  the  case,  with  the  same  reasonableness,  inquire  whether 
the  reviewer  himself  could  find  the  infinite  and  absolute  being  among  the  eyes  and 
claws  of  animals,  or  the  fossil  remains  of  the  lower  geological  strata,  or  any  other  of 
the  regions  of  nature,  which  he  traverses  in  search  of  the  teleological  dispositions  of 
matter.  What  we  are  required  to  do  in  natural  theology,  is  to  render  a scientific  ac- 
count of  our  belief  in  a God  ; and  the  question  here,  accordingly,  is  not  whence  we 
have  the  first  spontaenous  glimpse  of  the  Divinity,  but  how  we  can  establish  the  truth 
of  his  existence  on  a clear  and  reflective  basis.  Our  reviewer,  we  apprehend,  traverses 
nature,  not  to  find  God,  but  in  order  to  render  a scientific  account  of  his  belief ; we 
traverse  the  regions  of  psychology  for  the  same  purpose. 

To  render  this  account,  the  spontaneous  apperceptions  of  the  mind,  reviewed  alone, 
are  useless : they  can  have  no  scientific  value  about  them,  just  because  they  a?'e  spon- 
taneous and  not  reflective.  The  use  of  psychology  is  to  give  them  a reflective  value  ; 
to  prove  that  they  are  not  mere  subjective  delusions,  but  a veritable  light  from  heaven. 
This  is,  in  fact,  the  very  point  which  M.  Cousin  is  establishing  in  the  passage  quoted, 
and,  alas  ! misunderstood  by  the  reviewer,  when  he  (M.  Cousin)  says,  that  “ within 
the  penetralia  of  consciousness  he  had  succeeded  in  seizing  and  analyzing  the  instanta- 
neous but  veritable  fact  of  the  spontaneous  apperception  of  truth — an  apperception 
w'hich,  not  immediately  reflecting  itself,  passes  unperceived  in  the  depths  of  the  con- 
sciousness, yet  is  the  real  basis  of  that,  which  later,  under  a logical  form,  and  in  the 
hands  of  reflection,  becomes  a necessary  conception^' 

Theology,  as  the  very  termination  ology  implies,  occupies  itself  solUy  in  the  reflex 
and  logical ; and  it  is  for  this  reason  we  affirm,  that  we  must  seek  for  its  basis  in  the 
depths  of  our  psychology.  Take  the  instance  of  beauty,  as  an  illustration.  We  have  a 
spontaneous  apperception  of  the  beautiful  in  nature  or  art.  To  find  the  beautiful,  of 
course,  we  need  no  psychology ; but  is  it  possible  for  us  to  ground  the  the'nry  or  science 
of  beauty,  except  upon  the  basis  of  psychological  principles!  So  is  it  in  aatural  the- 
oloiry : — to  establish  the  principle  of  causation,  upon  which  the  whole  aposteriori  argu- 
ment depends,  is  an  affair  of  psychology;  to  find  the  scientific  use  and  value  of  our 
pure  spontaneous  ajiperceptions,  is  an  affair  of  psychology ; to  furnish  the  logical  ex- 
jdication  of  the  manner  in  which  we  rise  from  the  idea  of  our  own  personality,  to  that 
of  the  infinite  personality,  is  an  affair  of  psychology;  in  a word,  take  away  psychol- 
ogy, and  although  we  may  feel  the  presence  of  the  Infinite  Being,  and  love  him  still, 
yet  we  can  have  no  theology,  no  scientific  basis  for  our  belief.  Nature  alone  can  never 
oive  us  the  infinite ; and  how  are  we,  therefore,  to  ascribe  infinity  to  the  Deity,  unle.ss 
\ve  show,  philosophically,  that  our  spontaneous  perception  of  the  infinite  is  grounded  in 
real  seientific  truth. 

This  leads  us  to  another  very  important  adjustment,  on  the  relation  between  natural 
theology  and  revelation.  It  is  evident,  that  we  may  assume  our  spontaneous  concep- 


APPENDIX. 


741 


tions  of  Deity  as  unquestionable,  and  be  content  to  go  with  them  to  the  establishment 
of  the  evidences' of  revealed  religion.  In  this  case,  our  system  of  revealed  theology  may 
undoubtedly  appear  to  stand  apart  from,  and  independent  of,  the  conclusions  of  nat- 
ural theology."  But  who  does  not  at  once  perceive,  that  in  this  process  there  is  an  en- 
tire want  0!  logical  consecutiveness  I We  take  an  unscientific  formula,  and  upon  that 
we  ground  a scientific  argument  for  the  truth  of  revelation.  We  accept  a mere  spon- 
taneous impression,  and  on  its  authority  we  ground  a theology, -i.  e.  a reflective  science. 
That  the  spontaneous  and  unscientific  apprehension  of  truth  is  the  original  matter  on 
which  the  whole  of  our  theology  must  be  based  (just  as  our  perception  of  the  beautiful 
is  the  basis  of  all  our  scientific  ossthetics),  we  fully  admit ; but  we  have  no  right  to  use 
it  for  scientific  purposes,  until  it  has  become  reflective  truth.  If  we  pretend  to  construct 
a theology  at  all,  we  must  proceed  logically,  from  the  very  first  pnnciples  to  the  sum- 
mit of  our  last  conclusion. 

On  this  ground,  therefore,  we  affirm,  in  the  name  of  all  clear  and  consecutive  think- 
ing, that  natural  theology  is  the  true  and  the  only  true  basis  of  revealed  theology.  To 
build  the  authority  of  revelation  upon  the  idea  of  God,  as  furnished  by  the  spontaneous 
light  alone,  may  serve  well  enough  for  moral  purposes  ; nay,  for  aught  I know,  we 
might  convert  the  whole  world  to  Christianity,  without  proving  a single  doctrine  it 
contains,  or  even  vindicating  the  truth  of  its  evidences.  But  if  we  aspire  to  a theolngy, 
the  logical  procedure  cannot  for  a moment  be  dispensed  with : we  must  prove  our 
ground  as  we  advance,  and  leave  nothing  behind,  which  can  give  occasion  of  offence 
to  the  sceptic  himself.  To  do  this,  we  are  bound  to  begin  by  rendering  a due  account 
of  our  spontaneous  apperceptions,  of  our  doctrine  of  final  causes,  or  of  any  other  prin- 
ciple upon  which  man  is  compelled  to  admit  the  validity  of  his  primary  beliefs.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  must  establish  the  philosophical  value  of  our  primary  theistic  conceptions 
by  the  light  of  a searching  psychology  : and  it  is  only  when  we  have  laid  firm  our  basis 
in  the  inviolable  depths  of  the  human  consciousness,  that  we  can  proceed  to  build  up 
the  noble  superstructure  of  a sound  theology.  Unless  these  principles  be  established, 
theism  fails  of  a scientific  foundation ; and  theism  thus  failing,  natural  theology  has 
not  its  primary  idea,  and  revealed  theology  is  wanting  in  the  very  conception  which 
gives  it  all  its  authority  and  all  its  power.  VVe  affirm,  therefore,  that  all  theology, 
whether  natural  or  revealed,  like  everything  else  which  appeals  to  argument  for  vindi- 
cating its  truth,  must  be  grounded  in  the  daia  of  our  consciousness,  and  the  exercise  of 
our  faculties.  To  deny  this,  is  to  deny  the  right  of  appeal  to  the  human  understanding 
in  such  matters  at  all ; it  is  to  sacrifice  the  very  idea  of  having  a rational  basis  for  our 
religious  belief ; it  is  to  give  up  the  possibility  of  a theology  properly  so-called,  and  set 
the  whole  of  our  theological  conceptions  afloat  upon  the  uncertain  ocean  of  mere 
feeling,  or  of  human  tradition. 

This  conclusion  is  evident,  not  only  when  we  turn  our  attention  to  the  conception  of 
a God  as  the  foundation  of  all  theology,  but  equally  so  when  we  consider  many  other 
of  the  conceptions  whicli  the  truths  of  revelation  involve.  Revelation  comes  to  us  in 
the  form  of  words ; these  words,  in  order  to  convey  to  us  their yWZ  meaning,  mustbe/ttHy 
understood.  But  how  can  this  full  understanding  be  attained  I Experience  alone  is 
sufficient  to  tell  us  that  the  ideas  which  are  embodied  in  many  of  the  words  and  ex- 
pressions of  revelation,  can  only  be  adequately  comprehended,  by  means  of  the  progress 
we  make  in  moral  thinking  at  large.  Will  any  one  say  that  the  scriptural  idea  of  hu- 
man brotherhood  has  been  comprehended  through  the  eighteen  centuries  of  Christian 
teaching  which  have  enlightened  the  world  I As  society  advances,  and  the  principles 
of  justice  between  man  and  man  become  gradually  established,  do  we  not  find  mat 
the  whole  is  contained  in  the  spirit,  aye,  and  in  the  letter  of  Christianity,  but  that  the 
moral  thinking  of  the  world  was  not  sufficiently  awake  to  see  it  I Fifty  years  ago, 
did  our  fathers  see  slavery  cursed  in  the  Bible  I Or  ten  years  ago,  would  any  one 
have  dreamed  of  quoting  scripture  against  the  spirit  of  monopoly  1 So  it  is  with  all 
the  other  great  subjects  of  moral  interest.  The  idea  of  creation,  of  providence,  of  hu- 
inan  freedom,  or  of  moral  evil,  of  retribution,  aye,  and  of  spiritual  regeneration,  all  of 
them  involve  conceptions,  which  can  only  be  evolved  into  highest  brightness  by  the  in- 
tense application  of  the  reason  upon  them ; that  is-,  by  the  co-operation  of  philosophy  in 
the  elucidation  of  divine  truth.  VVe  find,  then,  two  important  relationships  which  phi- 
losophy bears  to  theology  ; first,  that  it  must  afford  it  a scientific  basis : and  secondly, 
that  it  must  clear  up  to  us  the  great  primary  moral  conceptions  which  revelation  in- 
volves, but  which  it  leaves  us  to  investigate  and  develop. 

Are  we  then,  it  might  be  said,  to  regard  philosophy  as  the  basis  of  all  religion?  I 
answer,  far  from  it.  Theology  and  religion  are  two  widely  different  things.  Theology 
implies  a body  of  truth,  founded  upon  indisputable  principles,  and  having  a connec- 
tion capable  of  carrying  our  reason  with  it,  running  through  all  its  parts.  Religion, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  the  spontaneous  homage  of  our  nature  poured  forth  with  all  the 


742 


APPENDIX. 


fragrance  of  holy  feeling  into  the  bosom  of  the  infinite.  Religion  may  exist  without  a 
theology  at  all,  properly  so  called.  We  may  never  have  attempted  to  render  account 
of  a single  theological  idea;  we  may  never  have  stepped  out  of  the  region  of  our  purely 
spontaneous  imaginations ; we  may  be  destitute  of  the  least  notion  of  the  grounds  on 
which  our  belief  rests,  and  yet  the  deepest  waters  of  our  religious  being  may  be  stirred 
by  the  divine  impulse  upon  the  soul,  and  lead  to  all  the  noble  results  of  a living 
and  entire  devotion  to  God.  And  here  we  see  the  power  of  the  word  in  its  progress 
through  the  world.  It  comes  not  with  any  philosophical  pretensions,  it  claims  not  to 
show  us  the  grounds  of  our  belief  in  God  and  Eternity  : but  it  comes,  all  replete  with 
the  pure,  the  holy,  the  divine.  It  appeals  not  to  our  logical  consciousness,  but  speaks 
at  once  to  the  religious  nature,  or,  as  we  more  often  term  it,  to  the  heart.  Scepticism  ex- 
isting, as  it  ever  will,  till  the  visions  of  prophecy  are  fulfilled,  demands  at  our  hands  a 
theology  which  shall  stop  the  mouth  of  sophistry  and  contention  : but,  ah  ! the  world 
at  large,  grovelling  in  the  dust  of  the  earthly,  the  sensual,  and  the  devilish,  needs  not 
so  much  a theology,  as  the  deep  inward  stirrings  of  that  religious  nature,  which  every 
bosom  contains  as  the  heritage  of  heaven,  until  the  spirit  is  mastered  by  the  flesh, 
and  the  better  feelings  hurried  away  and  lost  in  the  torrent  of  imperious  and  irresist- 
ible evil. 


Since  the  above  note  was  written,  the  spirit  that  dictated  the  sentiments  on  which 
we  have  commented,  has  gone  to  its  eternal  rest.  It  may  be  interesting  to  some  of 
the  survivors,  to  know  that  the  views  above  expressed  were  communicated  to  him, 
though  in  a very  brief  and  imperfect  form,  by  private  correspondence,  and  that  his 
mind  to  the  last  was  actively  engaged  in  developing  the  principles  of  the  knowledge  we 
may  attain  of  that  Divine  being,  whom  he  was  so  soon  to  adore  in  the  higher  world, 
and  on  whose  eternal  love  he  is  now  reposing.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  his 
reply,  dated  April  30,  1847 : — 

“ I should  have  replied  much  sooner,  but  I have  been  much  engrossed,  and  often 
unwell.  I read  your  letter  with  the  greatest  satisfaction.  I must  confess  that  if  you 
once  admit  the  reality  of  the  conception  of  a God,  and  also  that  the  proof  subsequent 
to  that  point  is  successful,  it  is  all  I care  for.  I do  not  in  the  least  object  to  the  specula- 
tion as  to  the  origin  of  the  conception.  Enough  for  me  that  the  starting  post  is  there, 
however  it  may  have  been  set  up.  You  will  allow  with  me,  that  the  conception  is  a 
very  general  one  ; and  if  an  unexceptionable  argument  can  be  grounded  on  its  mere 
existence  for  the  objective  reality  of  a God,  I seek  no  further.  I would  lay  no  interdict 
on  the  attempt  to  trace  our  mental  processes  backward  from  the  conception  to  its  earlier 
rudiments.  But  this  anterior  process,  or  rather  the  description  of  it,  forms  no  part  of 
the  proof  for  a God,  which  is  grounded  exclusively  on  the  existence  of  this  conception 
as  a mental  phenomenon,  and  not  on  the  causes  whence  it  took  its  rise.”  Great  as  is 
the  loss  to  private  friendships  and  affection  of  so  noble  a mind  and  so  loving  a nature 
as  was  that  of  Chalmers,  greater  still  is  that  which  has  been  sustained  by  the  Church 
and  by  the  world.  Breathing  as  he  had  ever  done  the  atmosphere  of  his  country’s 
philosophy  and  theology,  our  admiration  was  only  so  much  the  greater  to  see  his  soar- 
ing mind  ever  ready  to  burst  beyond  the  limits  of  mere  nationality,  into  the  broad 
catholicity  of  human  thought.  Too  soon  is  he  removed  from  a sphere  in  which  his 
influence  was  at  once  so  extensive  and  so  deeply  needed.  Had  another  ten  years  been 
added  to  his  life,  with  all  the  fresh  associations  which  were  flowing  in  upon  it  from  the 
literature  of  Europe,  with  that  lofty  impartiality  which  more  and  more  characterized 
his  spirit,  with  the  aptitude  he  evinced  to  soar  beyond  the  formalities  of  a dead  symbol 
into  the  higher  regions  of  spiritual  light  and  life,  we  can  hardly  pictui'e  to  ourselves  the 
full  dimensions  to  which  his  whole  mental  being  might  have  expanded.  May  there  be 
many  to  catch  the  mantle  of  the  ascending  prophet — the  mantle  not  only  of  his  massive 
intellect,  but  of  his  broad,  his  earnest,  and  hi.s  catholic  spirit ! 


Note  B. 


M.  Peisse,  an  ingenious  French  author,  in  confuting  the  intellectual  system  of  Dr. 
Gall,  puts  the  whole  question  of  the  uniform  relation  between  the  cerebral  development 
and  the  power  of  the  mental  faculties  to  the  test,  by  adducing  the  instance  of  a young 
Indian  girl,  who  possessed  a most  monstrous  configuration,  but  who  never  showed 


APPKNDIX. 


743 


mentally  the  least  peculiarity.  After  having  attested  and  described  the  facts  of  the 
case,  he  proceeds  to  reason  with  the  phrenologists  as  follows  : — “ I do  not  see  how,  on 
your  principles,  this  difficulty  can  be  surmounted.  You  would  not  be  able  to  believe, 
on  the  one  hand,  that  a sound  intellect  could  dwell  in  a brain  so  monstrously  deformed, 
without  abandoning  your  fundamental  principle,  which  expressly  subordinates  the 
mental  manifestation  to  certain  physiological  conditions,  determined  by  yourselves. 
You  are  not  able,  on  the  other  hand,  to  allege  that  the  malformations  of  the  cranium 
have  not  had  any  influence  upon  the  constitution  of  the  brain,  without  taking  away 
from  your  own  system  its  one  and  only  basis,  its  only  guarantee,  its  only  demonstra- 
tion, namely,  cranioscnpij.  If,  in  fact,  you  agree  that  in  this  case  disease  or  original 
disposition  have  produced  such  considerable  deviations  upon  the  cranium,  without  the 
brain  participating  in  it,  then  all  your  classifications,  distinctions,  and  localizations,  are 
destroyed  ; for  they  rest  upon  a prior  supposition  of  the  perfect  and  continuous  corres- 
pondence of  the  cranium  with  the  brain.  What  would  then  become  of  all  your  obser- 
vations on  the  statues  of  the  ancients — upon  the  heads  of  livin.g  men  and  animals — if  ■ 
this  correspondence  does  not  exist,  at  least,  within  the  limits  which  you  have  deter-' 
mined  'I  * * * The  fact  which  I now  discuss  is  in  direct  contradiction  with  your  prin- 
ciples, for  it  demonstrates  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  propositions 

1.  “ Either,  that  the  integrity  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  faculties  can  subsist  with 
a monstrous  brain ; or, 

2.  “ That  the  cranium  can  be  monstrous  without  the  brain  participating  in  its  de- 
formation. 

“ And  you  cannot  admit  either  the  one  or  the  other,  without  reducing  to  a nonentity 
all  the  organology  of  Dr.  Gall.” 


Note  C. 


The  philosophy  of  M.  Azai's  may  be  in  some  measure  comprehended  from  the  follow- 
ing extract ; — 

“ The  universe  is  the  whole  sum  of  existences  and  of  their  relation  ; these  existences 
and  their  relations  change  and  unceasingly  renew  themselves : action  is  then  necessary 
to  the  existence,  and  to  the  preservation  of  the  universe. 

“ Matter,  the  substance  of  beings,  is  the  passive  subject  of  the  universal  action.  God 
impresses  the  action — matter  obeys. 

“The  universal  action  has  received  from  the  Creator  one  unique  mode  of  exercise: 
on  this  condition  only,  it  can  be  a source  of  order  and  at  the  same  time  production.  Ex- 
pansion is  the  only  mode  of  universal  action ; that  is  to  say,  that  every  material  being 
by  the  simple  fact,  that  it  exists,  is  penetrated  in  all  the  points  of  its  substance  with  an 
inward  action,  which  tends  incessantly  to  dilate  it,  to  divide  it,  to  augment  indefinitely 
the  space  which  it  occupies,  and,  consequently,  to  dissolve  it. 

“ Thus,  a material  being,  of  any  kind  whatever,  if  it  could  for  a single  moment  be  alone 
in  space  ; if,  during  one  moment,  it  could  form  of  itself  a universe  ; would  only  have, 
need  of  this  moment  to  enter  into  an  eternal  and  absolute  dissolution. 

“ But  every  material  being,  of  whatever  kind,  and  occupying  whatever  space,  is 
surrounded  with  material  beings,  like  to,  or  different  from,  itself;  which  are  all  likewise 
penetrated  with  a continual  expansive  force  ; which,  consequently,  repress  or  prevent 
Its  dissolution,  by  struggling  against  it ; and  the  expansion  of  every  one  of  these  bodies 
is  itself  repressed,  retarded,  and  modified  by  the  concurrent  expansion  of  all  the  bodies 
with  which  it  is  surrounded  ; so  that  generallij,  in  the  universe,  the  act  of  repression 
or  of  conservation  is  the  immediate  effect  of  universal  expansion.” 

The  author  next  goes  on  to  account,  upon  these  mechanical  principles,  for  the  phe- 
nomena of  heat,  magnetism,  electricity,  and  all  the  more  subtle  agents  in  nature.  From 
thence  he  proceeds  to  deduce  all  the  different  attributes  of  material  existence  in  its 
solid,  liquid,  and  aeriform  character.  The  phenomenon  of  elasticity  is  peculiarly  im- 
portant in  his  theory,  as  accounting  for  the  vibrations  by  which  sound,  light,  &c.,  are 
produced.  Without  dwelling  upon  these  points,  however,  we  must  show  his  explana- 
tion of  the  principle  of  organized  life. 

“Organized  beings  are  elastic  beings,  in  the  bosom  of  which  vibrating  globules  are 
especially  collected  in  particular  focuses  ; having  relations  between  them  sustained  by 
the  aid  of  fibres  or  channels  ; this  provision  does  not  exist  in  imnrganized  elastic  be- 
ings : their  vibrating  expansion  proceeds  indifferently  from  every  point  towards  the 
surface. 

“ In  plants,  the  organic  relations  are  very  simple,  because  the  channels  which  eslab- 


744 


APPENDIX. 


lish  them  ilo  not  fold  back  upon  themselves  and  have  no  connection  with  one  another: 
there  is,  in  a word,  no  circulation.  In  animals,  the  organization  is  so  much  the  more 
elevated,  as  the  circulation  of  the  vibrating  globules  is  more  multiplied,  and  by  this 
means  the  general  correspondence  more  rapid  and  more  intimate.  Man  is  the  most 
perfect  of  organized  beings,  Kvery  organ,  or  focus  of  vibration,  in  an  organized  being, 
of  whatever  nature,  executes  its  particular  vibration  : there  is  hcallh  or  harmony  in  the 
whole  of  this  being,  when  all  the  organs  execute  concordant  vibrations  among  them- 
selves, when  they  form  a true  concert.  There  is,  on  the  contrary,  disease  when  the 
vibrations  of  the  different  organs  are  discordant  among  them  : in  organized  beings  of 
the  superior  classes  this  discordance  manifests  itself  hy  fever.” 

Having  explained  the  phenomena  of  organization,  our  author  proceeds  to  philosophize 
upon  man,  in  his  mental,  moral,  and  social  capacities.  “ Man,”  he  remarks,  “ experi- 
ences both  a want  and  a repression  alike ; but  of  a much  more  multiplied  character, 
because  it  is  of  a nature  much  more  rich,  much  more  lofty.  Each  one  of  us  is  desirous 
of  prosperity,  of  well-being,  of  extension,  of  pleasure,  of  renown ; each  can  only  rest 
satisfied  and  peaceful,  inasmuch  as  he  moderates  the  expansion  which  animates  him  : 
if  he  abandons  himself  to  his  ardor,  he  soon  meets  with  the  resistance  of  his  fellows — a 
resistance  which  proceeds  from  their  expansion,  and  which,  if  it  is  repulsed  with  vio- 
lence, rallies,  becomes  in  its  turn  hostile,  rude,  oppressive.  Human  laws,  of  whatever 
kind — the  laws  of  administration,  the  laws  of  justice,  never  do  anything  but  regulate 
the  reaction  of  the  common  expansion  against  the  usurpations  of  individual  expansion: 
every  human  law  is  a social  form  given  to  the  single  and  universal  law,  to  the  law  of 
compensations. 

“ In  fine,  every  people  is  a federation  of  expansive  beings;  a federation  which  un- 
ceasingly tends  to  the  improvement  and  to  the  increase  of  posterity,  of  territory,  of  ce- 
lebrity, of  all  kinds  of  enjoyment.  This  expansion,  as  long  as  it  is  limited  by  wisdom, 
remains  a principle  of  force  and  of  harmony;  but,  favored  by  imprudence  and  heated 
by  ambition,  it  excites  the  reaction  of  surrounding  peoples  ; it  jirovokes  their  union  and 
energy.  People,  ambitious  without  moderation,  only  call  forth  catastrophes.  The 
earth  has  resounded  with  the  violence  of  their  movements ; soon  it  is  frightened  at  the 
noise  of  its  fall : if  it  is  not  raised  by  a firm  and  conciliatory  hand,  it  is  crushed  and 
annihilated.” 


Note  D. 

Most  of  Fichte’s  works  consist  of  somewhat  small  treatises ; in  which  his  thoughts, 
however,  are  developed  at  once  with  great  brevity  and  great  distinctness.  The  follow- 
ing, we  believe,  is  a correct  list  of  them,  with  the  exception  of  short  pieces  or  articles 
which  appeared  in  the  periodical  literature  of  the  day  : — 

1.  “ An  Attempt  at  a Critique  of  all  Revelation;”  published  anonymously  in  1792, 
and,  then,  generally  attributed  to  the  pen  of  Kant. 

2.  “ Lectures  on  the  Destination  of  the  Learned ;”  written  on  his  first  appointment 
at  Jena — 1794. 

3.  “ On  the  Idea  of  a Doctrine  of  Science.”  Weimar,  1794. 

4.  ‘‘  Principles  of  a Universal  Doctrine  of  Science.”  Weimar,  1794. 

5.  “ Sketch  of  the  Peculiarity  of  the  Doctrine  of  Science.”  Jena,  1795. 

(5.  ” Principles  of  Natural  Right.”  Jena,  179f>. 

7.  ” A System  of  Moral  Philosophy.”  Jena,  1798. 

These  are  the  works  in  which  Fichte’s  first  views  on  the  subjective  philosophy  were 
embodied.  From  this  point,  we  find  a somewhat  modified  spirit  introduced  into  all  his 
speculations,  as  we  have  indicated  in  the  text. 

8.  “ On  the  Destination  of  Man.”  Berlin,  1800.  Recently  translated  into  English 
by  Mrs.  Percy  Sinnett. 

9.  ” Sun-clear  Intelligence,  offered  to  the  Public  at  large,  on  the  peculiar  Nature  of 
the  newest  Philosophy.”  Berlin,  180j. 

10.  “ The  Features  of  the  present  Age.”  Berlin,  1884. 

11.  “ On  the  Nature  of  the  Scholar.”  Lectures  delivered  at  Erlangen  in  1805.  Also 
translated. 

12.  “ Directions  for  a Happy  Life  ; or,  the  Doctrine  of  Religion.  ’ Berlin,  1806. 

13.  “ Addresses  to  the  German  People.”  Berlin,  1808. 

The  following  were  published  posthumously  : — 

14.  “ On  the  Facts  of  Consciousness.”  Stuttgard,  1817. 

15.  “ Doctrine  of  Government.”  Berlin,  1820. 

1 6.  Three  volumes  of  Miscellanies,  edited  by  his  son. 


APPENDIX. 


745 


Several  small  controversial  pamphlets  are  here  omitted.  The  above  list  contains  the 
works  which  show  the  development  of  his  philosophical  ideas. 

The  most  distinctive  feature,  and  for  the  most  interesting  of  Fichte’s  philosophy,  is 
that  which  refers  to  man’s  moral  action,  and  high  destiny  in  life.  However  extrava- 
gant we  may  consider  his  theoretical  science,  yet  it  is  impossible  to  read  his  noble  sen- 
timents on  human  duty,  and  to  see  them  exemplifed  in  his  own  eventful  life,  without 
feeling  our  moral  weakness  reproved,  and  our  moral  strength  invigorated. 


Note  E. 


To  give  anything  approaching  to  a correct  list  of  all  Schelling’s  writings,  is  a matter 
of  no  small  difficulty.  His  ever  restless  mind  continued,  for  some  years,  to  pour  forth 
its  productions,  in  treatises,  pamphlets,  and  journals,  in  such  a manner,  that  the  only 
possible  way  of  getting  a connected  view  of  his  literary  life,  would  be  to  arrange  these 
articles  in  due  order,  as  they  appeared  before  the  public.  Instead  of  doing  this,  we 
shall  give  a classification  of  liis  writings,  according  to  their  general  characteristics. 

The  first  period  in  Schelling’s  philosophical  life,  is  that  in  which  he  discusses  the 
grounds  of  metaphysical  science,  as  seen  from  Fichte’s  subjective  principles.  To  this 
period  belong  his  articles  ; — 

1.  “On  the  Possibility  of  a Form  of  Philosophy  generally.”  Tubingen,  1795;  and 

2.  “ On  the  Me,  as  Principle  of  Philosophy  ; or  on  the  Unconditioned  in  Human 
Knowledge.” 

3.  “ Pmlosophical  Letters  on  Dogmatism  and  Criticism,”  in  “ Niethammer’s  Phil. 
Journal,”  1796. 

The  second  period  is  that  in  which  Schelling  developed  his  Natur-Philosophie  in  its 
original  form.  The  chief  works  belonging  to  this  period  are — 

1.  “ Ideas  towards  a Philosophy  of  Nature.”  Leipsic,  1797. 

2.  “ On  the  Soul  of  the  World;  an  Hypothesis  of  the  Higher  Physics.”  Hamburg, 
1798. 

3.  “ Sketch  of  a System  of  Natural  Philosophy.”  Jena,  1799. 

4.  “ S3'stem  of  Transcendental  Idealism.”  Tubingen,  1800. 

5.  “ The  Journal  for  Speculative  Physics.”  Jena,  1800 — 1803. 

6.  “Bruno;  a Dialogue  on  the  Divine  and  Natural  Principle  of  Things.”  Berlin, 
1802. 

7.  “ Lectures  on  the  Method  of  Academical  Study.”  Tubingen,  1803. 

In  the  third  period  of  his  philosophical  life,  Schelling  began  to  feel  that  he  had  con- 
fined himself  too  much  to  the  objective  point  of  view,  and  lost  sight  of  the  powers  and 
freedom  df  the  individual  self.  We  find,  therefore,  in  the  following  works,  a tendency 
backward  to  the  subjective  principle.  These  are — 

1.  “ Philosophy  and  Religion.”  Tubingen,  1804. 

2.  “ Representation  of  the  true  Relation  of  Natural  Philosophy  to  the  improved  Doc- 
trine of  Fichte.”  Tubingen,  1806. 

3.  “ Yearly  Journal  of  Medicine,”  Tiibingen,  1806. 

4.  “ Memorial  of  the  Work  of  Jacobi  on  Divine  Things.”  Tubingen,  1812. 

The  last  period  of  Schelling’s  life,  is  that  in  which  he  has  come  round  to  the  Theo- 
sophic  point  of  view,  and  merged  his  former  ideas  in  a comprehensive  system  of  relig- 
ious mysticism.  To  this  belong — 

1.  “ Researches  into  the  Essence  of  Human  Freedom.”  Tubingen,  1812. 

2.  “ The  Philosophy  of  Mythology;”  in  a work  on  “The  Deities  of  Samothrace.” 
Tubingen,  1815. 

3.  “ Preface  to  Cousin’s  Philosophical  Fragments.”  The  only  thing  which  the 
Author  wrote,  after  his  woi'k  on  Mythology,  for  twenty  years. 

4.  His  Lectures  at  Berlin,  in  the  year  1842,  on  the  “ Philosophy  of  Revelation,”  of 
which  a few  only  have  been  printed. 


Note  F. 

The  writings  of  Hegel  are  comprised  in  a much  smaller  number  of  independent 
works,  than  those  of  Fichte  and  Schelling.  We  have  to  thank  the  zeal  of  his  followers 
in  Berlin,  for  giving  us  a complete  edition  of  them,  edited  in  a most  masterly  style.  His 
publications  appeared  in  the  following  order : — 


746 


APPENDIX. 


1.  A Dissertation  “ Dc  Orbilis  Planetarum.”  Jena,  1801. 

2.  A small  work,  “ On  the  Didercnce  between  Fichte’s  and  Schelling’s  System  of 
Philosophy.”  Jena,  1801. 

3.  Many  Articles  in  the  “ Critical  Journal  of  Philosophy.”  1802,  1803. 

Up  to  this  period,  Hegel  was  not  distinguished  from  the  ordinary  school  of  Schel- 
ling,  but  worked  in  conjunction  with  him. 

4.  The  first  work,  in  which  he  decidedly  took  up  his  own  independent  position,  was 
that  entitled  ‘ Phenomenology  of  Mind.”  Wurzburg,  1807.  (This  work  Hegel  used 
to  call  his  ” Voyage  of  Discovery.”) 

5.  ‘‘  Science  of  Logic.”  This  is  comprised  in  three  volumes,  which  appeared  suc- 
cessively, from  18I2  to  1810,  at  Nuremberg. 

(5.  “ Encyclopajdia  of  Philosophical  Sciences.”  Heidelberg,  1817. 

7.  “ Principles  of  the  Rights  of  Nature.”  Berlin,  1821. 

In  addition  to  these,  Hegel  delivered  many  courses  of  Lectures  at  Berlin,  on  almost 
every  subject  connected  witli  philosophy  and  its  history,  many  of  which  have  been 
published  posthumously,  from  a collation  of  his  own  Notes  with  those  taken  by  his  pu- 
pils, at  their  delivery.  The  most  interesting  of  these  are,  the  “ History  of  Philosophy,” 
and  the  “ Philosophy  of  History.” 


Note  G. 


The  following  is  the  statement  which  has  been  given  by  the  authors  of  the  “ Dic- 
tionnaire  des  Sciences  Philosophiques,”  of  the  principles  by  which  their  criticisms  have 
been  guided. 

1.  Retaining  as  we  do,  to  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  an  inviolable  respect  for  that 
tutelary  power,  which  accompanies  man  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  speaking  to  him 
always  of  God,  and  pointing  him  to  heaven  as  the  true  country  ; we  believe,  neverthe- 
less, that  philosophy  and  religion  are  two  things  altogether  distinct,  the  one  of  which 
cannot  supply  the  place  of  the  other,  but  which  are  both  necessar}'  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  mind,  and  the  dignity  of  our  race.  We  believe  that  philosophy  is  a science  alto- 
gether free;  which  is  sufficient  in  itself,  and  appeals  to  reason.  But  we  maintain  that, 
at  the  same  time,  far  from  being  an  individual  and  sterile  faculty,  varying  from  one 
man  and  from  one  period  to  another,  reason  comes  from  God  ; that  it  is,  like  Him,  in- 
variable, and  absolute  in  its  essence ; that  it  is  nothing  less  than  a reflex  of  the  Divine 
wisdom,  enlightening  the  consciousness  of  every  individual  man,  enlightening  the 
tribes  of  humanity  as  a whole,  under  the  condition  of  labor  and  of  time. 

2.  We  recognize  no  science  without  method.  But  the  method  which  we  have 
adopted,  and  which  we  regard  as  the  only  legitimate  one,  is  that  which  has  already 
twice  regenerated  philosophy,  and  through  philosophy  the  whole  sum  of  human  knowl- 
edge. It  is  the  method  of  Socrates  and  Descartes,  but  applied  with  more  rigor,  and 
developed  to  the  present  proportions  of  science,  the  horizon  of  which  has  widened  with 
the  ages.  Equally  removed  from  empiricism,  which  will  admit  nothing  beyond  the 
grossest  and  most  palpable  facts,  and  from  pure  speculation,  which  feeds  upon  chi- 
meras, the  psychological  method  observes  religiously,  by  the  aid  of  that  interior  fight 
which  is  called  consciousness,  all  the  facts  and  all  the  states  of  the  human  mind.  It 
collects  one  by  one  all  the  principles,  all  the  ideas,  which  constitute,  in  any  manner, 
the  foundation  of  our  intelligence ; then,  by  the  aid  of  induction  and  reasoning,  it 
fructifies  them,  and  raises  them  to  the  highest  unity,  and  develops  them  into  abundant, 
results. 

3.  Thanks  to  this  manner  of  proceeding,  and  thanks  to  it  alone,  we  teach  in  psy- 
chology the  most  positive  spiritualism,  allying  the  system  of  Leibnitz  to  that  of  Plato 
and  Descartes;  not  admitting  that  the  mind  is  an  idea,  a pure  thought,  nor  a power 
without  liberty,  destined  simply  to  put  into  play  the  machinery  of  the  body;  nor  any 
fugitive  form  of  being  in  general,  which,  once  broken,  only  leaves  after  it  an  existence 
unknown  to  itself,  an  immortality  without  consciousness,  and  without  memory.  It  is 
in  our  eyes,  that  which  it  is  in  reality — a free  and  responsible  power,  an  existence  en- 
tirely di.stinct  from  every  other,  which  possesses  itself,  knows  itself,  governs  itself,  and 
carries  in  itself,  with  the  impress  of  its  origin,  the  pledge  of  its  immortality. 

4.  In  morals  we  recognize  no  transaction  between  passion  and  duty;  between 
eternal  justice  and  neccs.sity,  that  is  to  say,  the  interest  of  the  moment.  The  idea  of 
duty,  of  good  in  itself,  is  for  us  the  sovereign  law,  which  allows  no  attaint,  and  rejects 
all  condition  ; which  binds  states  and  governments,  as  well  as  individuals,  and  ought 
to  serve  for  a rule  in  the  apjireciation  of  the  past,  as  in  the  resolutions  of  the  future. 
But  we  believe,  at  the  same  time,  that  under  the  empire  of  this  Divine  law,  of  which 


APPENDIX. 


747 


charity  and  the  love  of  God  are  the  indispensable  compliment,  all  the  wants  of  our 
nature  find  their  legitimate  satisfaction ; all  the  faculties  of  our  being  are  excited  to 
develop  themselves  in  the  most  perfect  agreement ; all  the  forces  of  the  individual  and 
of  society,  being  combined  under  one  and  the  same  discipline,  are  equally  put  out  to 
profit,  we  will  not  say  for  the  attainment  of  absolute  happiness,  which  belongs  not  to 
this  world,  but  for  the  glory  and  dignity  of  the  human  race. 

5.  In  all  questions  relative  to  God,  and  the  relations  of  God  to  man,  we  have  gb  en 
its  due  part  to  feeling ; we  have  recognized,  more  perhaps  than  any  of  our  preile-.a-s 
sors,  its  legitimate  and  salutary  influence,  even  while  maintaining,  in  their  whole  ex- 
tent, the  rights  and  the  authority  of  reason.  We  accord  to  reason  the  yjower  of  de:non- 
sfrating  to  us  the  existence  of  the  Creator,  of  instructing  us  in  his  infinite  attrihut.  s. 
and  his  relation  to  the  universe  of  Beings ; but  by  feeling  we  enter,  in  some  wayq  i:iti. 
more  intimate  communion  with  him,  and  his  action  upon  us  is  at  once  more  iinuu-- 
diate  and  more  present.  We  profess  an  equal  separation  from  mysticism,  which,  s icii- 
ficing  reason  to  feeling,  and  man  to  God,  loses  itself  in  the  splendor.s  of  the  infinite  ; 
and  from  pantheism,  which  refuses  to  God  the  very  perfections  of  man,  by  adiuitting 
under  this  name  some  mere  abstract  being  deprived  of  consciousness  and  of  liberty. 
Thanks  to  this  consciousness  of  ourselves,  and  of  this  free-will,  upon  which  arc 
founded  at  once  our  method  and  our  entire  philosophy,  this  abstract  and  vague  Deify, 
of  whom  we  have  just  spoken,  the  God  of  pantheism,  becomes  forever  impossible,  ajid 
we  see  in  its  place  Providence,  the  free  and  holy  God,  whom  the  human  race  adores, 
the  legislator  of  the  moral  world,  the  source  at  the  same  time,  as  it  is,  the  object  of  that 
inexhaustible  love  of  the  beautiful  and  the  good;  which  at  the  centre  of  our  souls  mix 
themselves  with  the  passions  of  another  order. 

G In  fine,  we  think  that  the  history  of  philosophy  is  inseparable  from  philosophy 
itself;  that  they  both  form  one  and  the  same  science.  All  the  problems  agitated  by  the 
philosophers,  all  the  solutions  which  have  been  given  of  them,  all  the  systems  which 
in  turn  have  reigned,  or  have  struggled  for  the  mastery  in  the  same  epoch,  arc,  in  a 
certain  manner  of  viewing  them,  facts  that  have  their  origin  in  the  human  conscious- 
ness, facts  that  illustrate  and  complete  those  which  every  one  of  us  discovers  in  him- 
self: for  how  could  they  have  produced  themselves,  if  they  had  not  had  in  us  (in  the 
laws  of  our  intelligence)  their  foundation  and  their  origin  I Independently  of  this 
point  of  view,  which  regards  the  history  of  philosophy  as  a counterproof,  and  neces- 
sary compliment  of  psychology,  we  admit  that  truth  belongs  to  all  times  and  to  all 
places,  that  it  constitutes  in  some  sort  the  very  essence  of  the  human  mind,  but  that  it 
does  not  always  manifest  itself  under  the  same  form,  and  to  the  same  degree.  We  be- 
lieve, in  fine,  in  a wise  progress,  compatible  with  the  invariable  principles  of  reason, 
and  from  that  cause  the  present  state  of  science  attaches  itself  closely  with  the  past; 
the  order  in  which  the  systems  of  philosophy  follow  and  unite  with  each  other,  be- 
comes the  very  order  which  presides  over  the  development  of  the  human  intelligence 
athwart  the  ages,  and  throughout  the  entireness  of  humanity. 


Note  H. 

In  the  course  of  our  “ Historical  View,”  we  have  said  nothing  respecting  the  phi- 
losophy of  any  of  the  European  nations  beyond  England,  France,  and  Germany.  It 
should  not  be  inferred,  however,  from  hence,  that  philosophy  has  been  entirely  neg- 
lected amongst  all  the  other  peoples  of  Europe  except  those  three.  The  reason  why  they 
hold  no  prominent  place  in  the  history  of  philosophy  is — that  they'  have  attached  them- 
selves to  some  of  the  systems  we  have  explained,  rather  than  originated  in  any  new 
metliods  or  theories. 

Next  to  the  countries  above  mentioned,  Italy  has  been  the  most  active  in  the  pur- 
suit of  philosophy.  The  merits  of  Vico,  as  father  of  the  philosophy  of  history,  have 
been  already  mentioned.  Besides  Vico,  however,  the  last  century  gave  to  Italy  several 
writers,  more  peculiarly  philosophical,  who  are  worthy  to  stand  side  by  side  with  those 
of  the  other  countries  of  Europe.  Of  these  Antonio  Genovesi  has  been  termed  the  re- 
storer of  philosophy  to  Italy.  Appiano  Buonafede,  born  four  years  later,  (1716,)  was 
an  equally  fertile,  though  very  opposite  writer.  The  former  may  be  regarded  as  belong- 
ing to  the  eclectic,  certainly  to  the  spiritualist  school,  while  his  opponent  was  a child 
of  the  sensationalism  of  the  eighteenth  century.  In  morals  the  name  of  Bluratori  has 
almost  an  European  reputation. 

In  the  present  century  we  have  Romagnosi  as  the  historian  of  philosophy.  Galluppi 
as  the  psychologist,  and  Gioberti  as  the  metaphysician ; so  that  every  branch  of  phil- 


748 


APPENDIX. 


osophical  science  has  had  its  representative  in  Italy.  In  the  person  of  the  latter  of 
these  especially,  the  spirit  of  philosophy  has  begun  to  menace  the  power  both  of  su- 
perstition and  of  authority,  under  which  that  unhappy  country  has  for  so  long  been 
oppressed. 

In  Holland,  Denmark,  and  Sweden,  several  authors  have  been  incited  to  metaphys- 
ical investigations  by  the  German  philosophy  ; and  even  Portugal  has  produced  one 
or  two  works  worthy  of  notice.  As  all  these,  however,  have  a reference  to  some  of  the 
systems  already  explained,  I have  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  get  up  any  distinct 
account  of  them  in  the  present  volumes. 


INDEX  OF  NAMts. 


A.bercrombie,  p.  391. 

Alcott,  570. 

Alison,  305. 

Ancillon,  683. 

Argens,  Marquis  d’,  207. 

Aristotle,  28,  31,  47,  48,  672. 
Arnold,  713. 

Azai's,  353. — Appen. — Note. 
Baader,  625. 

Bacon,  29,  63 — 71,  79,  392. 
Ballanche,  594. 

Ballantyne,  390. 

Barchou  de  Penlioen,  672. 

Barlow,  John,  347,  512. 

Barham,  568. 

Barni,  Jules,  671. 

Barthelemy,  St.  Hilaire,  672. 
Bauer,  Bruno,  480. 

Bautain,  539. 

Bayle,  199,  200. 

Beausobre,  153,  207. 

Bell,  Sir  C.,  307. 

Belsham,  283. 

Benard,  671. 

Bentham,  103,  272—280,  580,  700, 
701. 

Berard,  679,  680. 

Berkeley,  56,  94,  141,  143. 

Bersot,  673. 

Bichat,  337. 

Bohme,  Jacob,  208. 

Bonald,  537. 

Bonnet,  109,  110,  684. 

Bonstetten,  684. 

Boulland,  594. 

Bouillier,  121,  671,  673. 
Bouterwek,  603. 

Bowring,  273. 


Bray,  283. 

Branis,  489. 

Broglie,  Due  de,  670. 

Brougham,  112,  716. 

Broussais,  351 — 353,  682. 

Brown,  Dr.  T.,  93,  375—389. 
Brownson,  508. 

Bruno,  Giordano,  62. 

Buchez,  593. 

Buckland,  35. 

Burke,  714. 

Butler,  140,  141. 

Byron,  707. 

Cabanis,  31,  335—339,  679,  697. 
Calker,  607. 

Campanella,  62. 

Cardaillac,  685. 

Carlyle,  508—512,  712. 
Carmichael,  179. 

Carpenter,  Dr.,  305,  308 — 310. 
Chalmers,  Dr.,  46,  186,  389,  398, 
399. — Note  A.  Appendix. 
Chalybaus,  160. 

Clarke,  Dr.  S.,  96,  137—139. 
Collins,  96. 

Coleridge,  562 — 568,  712. 

Combe,  G.,  318. 

Combe,  Edw.,  195. 

Comte,  263,  354—362,  694. 
Condillac,  31,  104 — 109,  335,  336. 
Condorcet,  111. 

Conradi,  480. 

Constant,  676. 

Cory,  J.  P.,  221,  512. 

Cousin,  49,  50,  51,  54,  174,  245, 
395,  396,  641—662,  672,  726. 
Coward,  Dr.,  319. 

Cudworth,  134 — 137. 


750 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


Cumberland,  76,  134. 

Ousanus,  Nicolaus,  62. 

Damiron,  208,  666—669,  682. 
Darwin,  103. 

Degerando,  677 — 679. 

De  la  Forge,  122. 

Descartes,,  29,  63,  182, 

194,  30a,  672l 

Destutt  de  Tracy,  335,  342 — 345. 
Diderot,  112,  719. 

Dodwell,  96,  139. 

Dubois,  670. 

Dupuis,  112. 

Eckstein,  Baron  d’,  541. 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  283. 

Elliotson,  Dr.,  319. 

Emerson,  508. 

Engel,  Johann,  201. 

Engledue,  Dr.,  319,  320. 

Epicurus,  275. 

Epinay,  Mad.  d’,  112. 

Erdmann,  479. 

Fauriel,  338. 

Feder,  113. 

Fenelon,  202. 

Feuerbach,  480. 

Fichte,  56,  175,  414—433. 

Fichte,  jun.,  489 — 493. 

Ficinus,  Marsilius,  62. 

Fischer,  489. 

Fludd,  Robert,  211. 

Foucher,  Simon,  198. 

P'ourier,  582 — 589. 

Fries,  606. 

Gabler,  479. 

Gale,  213. 

Galiani,  112. 

Gall,  Dr.,  353. 

Galluppi,  671. 

Garat,  339,  340,  345. 

Gassendi,  72,  76,  194,  230. 

Gay,  275. 

Geulincx,  122. 

Gladstone,  714. 

Glanville,  210,  211. 

Godwin,  282. 

Goethe,  711. 

Goschell,  479. 


Green,  J.  H.,  512. 

Greaves,  568. 

Grimblot,  Paul,  671. 

Grimm,  112. 

Gruyer,  121,  673. 

Guizot,  670. 

Hallam,  62,  7l,  73,  75,  90,  197. 
Hamilton,  Sir  W.,  93,  133,  183,  186 
386,  393,  406—409. 

Harris,  144. 

Hartley,  96 — 102. 

Hegel,  57,  456—477. 

Heinsius,  62. 

Helmont,  Van,  200. 

Helvetius,  110,  337. 

Henry,  507. 

Heraud,  206. 

Herbart,  482 — 489. 

Herbert,  Lord,  133. 

Herder,  113. 

Herschel,  Sir  J.,  245,  327,  710. 
Hillebrand,  494. 

Hinrichs,  479. 

Hirnhaim,  198. 

Hobbes,  71—76,  133,  230. 

Hoi  bach,  Baron  d’.  111,  337. 
Housel,  Zachary,  319. 

Huet,  195,  196,  523. 

Humboldt,  696. 

Hume,  94,  180,  182,  215,  224. 
Husson,  671. 

Hutcheson,  179,  180. 

Jacobi,  597. 

Jaques,  671. 

Jouffroy,  305,  322,  332,  662 — 666. 

Kant,  48,  154,  177,  187,  217,  399, 
411,  550,  656. 

Kepler,  80,  81. 

King,  275. 

Koppen,  598,  003. 

Krause,  494. 

Krug,  604. 

Lacordaire,  542. 

Lambert,  St.,  Ill . 

Lamennais,  Abbe  de,  527 — 537. 
Laromiguiere,  631. 

Law,  Bishop,  96. 

Layton,  319. 


IffDEX  OF  NAMES. 


751 


Leibnitz,  29,  146 — 151. 

Lerminier,  686. 

Leroux,  Pierre,  590,  670. 

Lessing,  26. 

Lewes,  222,  258 — 264. 

Lipsius,  62. 

Littre,  360,  261. 

Locke,  29,  31,  56,  76—113,  391. 

Macaulay,  67,  71. 

Mackintosh,  137,  224,  280,  405, 
406. 

M'Cormac,  264. 

M'Culloch,  715. 

Magendie,  353. 

Maine  de  Biran,  637. 

Maistre,  Compte  de,  524. 
Malebranche,  122 — 124. 

Mallet,  672. 

Mandeville,  96. 

Marci,  Marcus,  201. 

Maret,  542. 

Marlieineke,  479. 

Martin,  St.,  208,  209. 

Massias,  682. 

Mazure,  673. 

Mellin,  671. 

Mercier,  673. 

Michelet,  201,  473,  479. 

Mill,  James,  237 — 254,  698. 

MiU,  J.  S„  68,  71,  252—258. 
Montaigne,  199. 

More,  Henry,  208,  211 — 213. 
Mylne,  390. 

Newton,  Sir  I.,  29,  79,  81. 
Nicolas,  542,  671. 

Norris,  96. 

Novalis,  621. 

Oken,  711. 

Oswald,  190. 

Owen,  R.,  293—299. 

Paley,  103,  267,  268,  271. 

Parker,  T.,  508. 

Parmenides,  28. 

Pascal,  196 — 197. 

Patritius,  F.,  62. 

Payne,  Dr.,  499. 

Perron,  674. 

Peisse,  671. 


Picus,  John,  62. 

Plainer,  207. 

Plato,  28,  62,  411. 

Playfair,  70. 

Poiret,  Peter,  201. 

Pomponatius,  Peter,  62. 

Pordage,  213. 

Prichard,  305. 

Price,  143. 

Priestley,  101 — 103,  704. 
Pythagoras,  28. 

Ramus,  Peter,  62. 

Regis,  Pierre,  122. 

Reid,  56,  93—95,  181—189,  364, 
365,  391,  402. 

Reinhold,  177,  178,  552. 

Remusat,  172,  673. 

Renaud,  590. 

Renouvier,  673. 

Ripley,  George,  507. 

Robinson,  319. 

Rosenkranz,  479. 

Royer- Collard,  637. 

Rutherford,  267. 

Saintes,  Amand,  673. 

Saisset,  Emile,  124,  125,  360,  671. 
Salat,  603. 

Schaller,  479. 

Schelling,  57,  433 — 456,  596,  727. 
Schlegel,  608 — 615. 
Schleiermacher,  615 — 621. 
Schubert,  624,  727. 

Schulze,  552. 

Sedgwick,  503. 

Sewell,  571,  713. 

Shaftesbury,  96,  137. 

Simon,  Jules,  671. 

Simon,  St.,  579,  672. 

Smart,  501. 

Smith,  Adam,  180,  181. 

Smith,  Dr.  P.,  35. 

Socrates,  28. 

Sorhiere,  198. 

Spalding,  499. 

Spinoza,  57,  124 — 132,  411. 

Stael,  Mad.  de,  676,  677. 

Steffens,  626. 

Stewart,  Dugald,  254,  322,  365 — 
! 375. 

1 Stillingfleet,  96. 


752 


INDEX  OF  NAMES. 


Strauss,  480,  7 IS),  725. 
Suabedissen,  494. 

Swedenborg,  202 — 200,  224,  302. 

Tappan,  507. 

Taylor,  Isaac,  500. 

Telesius,  62. 

Tennemann,  21,  152,  198. 

Thales,  28. 

Thomson,  W.,  512. 

Thurot,  685. 

Tiedemann,  113. 

Tissot,  315,  331,  333,  671. 

Tittel,  113. 

Troxler,  494. 

Trullard,  671. 

Tucker,  98. 

Turner,  Sharon,  35. 

Vatke,  479. 

Vayer,  F.  de  la  Mothe  le,  199. 
Vico,  J.  B.,  41,  671. 


Villers,  676,  681. 

Virey,  680,  681. 

Volney,  335,  340—342,  345,  349, 
350. 

Voltaire,  112. 

Wardlaw,  576. 

Weisse,  490. 

Weisshaupt,  113. 

Whatel)%  301, 

Whewell,  38,  67,  70,  254,  323,  698„ 
708,  715. 

Wilkinson,  J.  J.  G.,  206. 

Willm,  454,  673. 

Wolf,  151—153. 

Wollaston,  137. 

Wordsworth,  707. 

Wright,  H.  N.,  570. 

Young,  Dr.,  389,  390. 

Zeno,  28. 


-f  * 


Duk6  Uni\/orcih.  I ;i 

LJUi  332325 J 


